My Daddy

On Sunday 11/23/08 My Dad had a small heart attack. He was moving from one apartment to another. I had just shown up to help him finish up the apartment. He started to complain that his chest was hurting. I immediately had him sit in a chair. I continued working on the apartment while he rested for a few. When all was said in done he was in pain, but not severe. I left him in his new apartment and continued home. Thankfully I have Sundays and Mondays off. He called me Monday afternoon and said that he wanted to go to the Hospital to be examined. I picked him up around 1:30pm. It was the scariest processes that I have ever seen. There is nothing like seeing you Father being strapped in a Hospital bed, and having wires attached all over his body. They placed a patch over his heart to increase blood flow, as well as a shot to thin his blood. They ran E.K.G.'s as well as Stress tests and all kinds of heart monitoring. He has no health insurance, no life insurance, not even a living will. Although it was not the time or place for it to be discussed; it was. Who I am supposed to call in the event of his death. How he wants to be buried. How to avoid taking on his debt. What to do with his belongings. It's one of the scariest conversations that I have ever had with my Father. Call his Priest, then Uncle David, the go to my sister, and tell her. Call my mom, then call Aida (his wife in Russia) then call cousin Carolyn. Then call John, then call Tom Brown, then call my Aunt Linda. He handed me a list of phone numbers along with his Social security number. He asked if I knew his birthplace and birthdate. Of course I did. He asked if I knew the family history for sickness, and we had a complete conversation about his parents as well as his grandparents. It is not pleasant. I left the Hospital after 12 hours. He fell asleep, and I setup his belongings near his bedside, plugged in his cell phone and put it next to him, even bought him a Diet pepsi. I didn't know what else to do. It's so heart wrenching to watch your Father in pain. And you can't do shit about it.
My older sister is one of those people who take things WAY to seriously or not enough. She didn't take this seriously. Which makes me want to yell at her, but what good will that do? - None. I want to tell her to go see him, but I don't know if her lack of seriousness would make him feel better or worse. I don't think many people know of his ailments. I saw Tom Brown, and John last night. That was the first time I had seen Tom in probably 10 years. It was good to see him. He is a really sweet guy, and dropped everything in his day to come see my dad.
I am going to head over there tonight. I will bring him a Diet Pepsi since I know his head is probably pounding. I am going to get the keys to his house too, so that I can start unpacking him from the move. I don't want him to be overwhelmed when he is out of the hospital. For those of you who have been through the same thing, you know what I am talking about. For those of you who don't; count your blessings, and be thankful that you don't know.