Just Breathe.

Obviously, I had disappeared from the blog world for awhile.

If you don't follow my facebook or twitter page, then you might wonder where I've been.

Two weeks ago, I was at the dentist (where i got the horrific/hilarious news that mouth has 14 cavities...), when my brother called.

He told my that my dad was at the hospital, and having emergency open heart surgery in two days.


Here's the very important thing: he had shown no symptoms.

There had been no heart attack, no shortness of breathe, or difficulty exercising.

He merely went in for a routine test and they didn't like what they saw. After running a couple more tests, they wouldn't let him out of the bed, much less the hospital.

I really don't remember anything else about that day. I know I got home somehow, and that i managed to call work and book a flight home; but it's all a blur.

With the help of my Husband, I was able to rush home the next day so that I could spend time with my dad before the surgery. He was lying on a bed, watching the hours tick by before they were going to cut him open and operate on his heart.

I.was.terrified.

I am not exaggerating when I say, my dad is my best friend. I talk to him almost everyday, and while every other female i know went through obligatory teenage drama with their fathers, that never happened to us. (and my high school friends can attest to that). My looks and over-the-top personality i got from my mom...but my sense of humor is strictly my dad's.

I kept thinking about the one thing no one was supposed to mention: 'What if i never get to see him again?'

I made myself physically ill with worry. But it wasn't needed, because my dad's a fighter. He had no intention of leaving us. The surgery was successful, and they did a double bypass. For the next 7 days, we sat in icu and waited until we could take him home. I felt like i was holding my breath, and when we got him home, I finally got to breathe for the first time.

I have the credit my amazing job because they allowed me to stay here for 3 weeks to help out.

My dad's a retired chef, and we needed someone to cook the meals, drive him to his appointments, and help keep the house in tact... I don't think any of us realized exactly how much dad does around here. Clearly, I'm not as good as dad...but everyone's been a good sport.

Now, we're working on his recuperation. The main focus is exercise and a low-sodium diet. He's doing well, but get's exhuasted pretty easily. Everyday there's a little more progress. I'll be here for another week to help out, and I'm more than happy to help. I keep reminding the parents that i'd be useless with worry up in wisconsin, so I am might as well be nearby helping.

It's surreal being back home. I don't know anyone that still lives in town, so i've been spending all my time at home. Today, i thought i had insomnia...but then i realized everyone had gone to bed before 9:30.

There's at least one benefit to being home: Embarrassing loved ones





more photos to come. and i'll keep you posted on how dad's doing too.