they're holding me hostage, and they have me sleeping on the floor. I'd ask him what year it was, and he went back to the 90's in his mind. He no longer remembered my baby's name. Even when i'd correct him, he wasn't retaining things. There were even times when he didn't want to see us. He'd literally put us out of his room and refuse the affection we'd tried to give him in hugs because we had somehow become traitors to him.
After further testing, it was determined that in the absence of oxygen over that 6 minute time period, my dad had lost some brain functioning. The planned course of action was to have him sent to a neurocenter with hopes that he would recover at least some, but the doctor did not seem very hopeful. Since he wasn't efficiently eliminating fluids from his body, it was also determined that my dad should be placed on dialysis. Permanently.
The permanent catheter was put on, and hours later, before even making sure things would successfully work, my dad was sent off to the neurocenter. When they tried to perform a dialysis treatment for the first time at the neurocenter, they found that things weren't working, and my dad was sent back to the hospital to have the procedure done over. Upon his return to the hospital, his mental state apparently worsened. We were told that he threatened his caregivers and just became violent with his words, although physically, there was nothing much that he could have done.
As you can imagine, this all took a toll on me. This is where i'm inserting a "How My God Works" moment. I continued to carry on with life as usual as much as possible, except with a heavy burden for my dad. I just wasn't used to see him behaving as he was. On this particular Sunday, I was silently praying. The praise team at my church had just got done singing Everybody Praise. My Pastor was encouraging everyone to just praise God for His goodness, and between praising I prayed that God would restore my dad's right mind and help him to give his heart to Him. Well, not very long after I prayed that prayer, the Pastor called for those who wanted prayer to get into the aisle, and I did, and he told me stop worrying about it, he didn't know what i'd just prayed, but God was going to do it for me.
Several nights later, maybe about a couple of weeks or so, my sister talked to my dad. She said he was answering everything that she'd asked him sensibly. This was wonderful, and of course welcome news. Around a couple of days later, we made the trip out to see him. He was saying weird things again. This was kinda disheartening, because he'd lost the progress that he'd made. Fast forward about another week or so, and things were surely falling in line. He was ready to leave, but the way the neurocenter works, you're signed up for blocks of time, and you have to wait that out, and they'll add more time as they saw fit or let you go if they think you're ready.
Well, my dad was very insistent on leaving, but he did have to wait out his time. My brother would have signed for him to get out early, but was told that he would be responsible for the cost of my dad's stay and treatment if he did. Besides, there were just a matter of several days before he'd be free to leave. He waited out that time, and he is now back at home.
There's still quite a road ahead. My dad's left side was previously disabled due to a stroke he had, but the time he spent in bed through his recovery process with little to no physical activity has left him even weaker. He needs someone nearby practically 24/7, because there's not much he can do for himself. One thing I do know though, it's great to be able to hold a normal conversation with my dad. To tell him I love him and have him tell me back. To be able to hug him and kiss his cheek without being rejected. I love my daddy.
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