The Big Day.

There's no escaping it any more. Fate can only be delayed, not stopped. At 4:30 AM on this day, Friday April 9th, I will be getting up to take my parents to the hospital, where my 80-year-old father will be prepped for a triple bypass, and possible replacement of his aortic valve. 99% success rate or not, his age and that damned 1% have me worried, though I'm doing my best to stay positive and not show it. I'm not going to find myself in one of those cliché scenes in which the doctor walks up to my mother and I in the waiting room shaking his head, not tomorrow. Not Yet.

He's resigned to his fate at this point, but I'm glad he decided to fight and at least try for a few more years on this Earth. Still, he's been working the phrase “kick the bucket” into his sentences more often than I like. “If I kick the bucket, you know where those wrenches are.” My mom has been dealing with the stress through rampant cleaning, doing more laundry than we have room to store. There are clothes everywhere, on door handles, on the shower rod, folded on various radiators; it's out of control.

My dad's starting to show minor concerns, like if the surgeon will still be able to work if he has a little bit of a gut. He asked me Wednesday night what kind of exercise he could do to get rid of it by Friday. Honestly, if there was some magic sit-up or stomach-crunch that could flatten a belly in two days, I don't think I'd still be single. Of course, what he's really looking for is some last minute reprieve, like the flat feet that kept him from being drafted as a kid. He's got a battle ahead of him after all, and we've got a long day and a long weekend ahead of us. The surgery could take anywhere from 3 to 5 hours, but we have no idea what time they're actually going to begin once he's been prepared, and no idea how long it will be before we can see him afterwards. If all goes well, and I'm praying it does, he'll be in the hospital a minimum of three days. As long as he's healing, and avoiding any subsequent infection, he should get as much time as he needs.

So I don't know when I'll be home again, or how much I'll have to say. I'll probably be too tired to write more than a quick update to let everyone know how it went. I've already preprogrammed my movie reviews for the weekend, so if there's nothing from me on Saturday you'll still all have that to read on Sunday. Hopefully though, 12 hours from now I'll be pounding out a quick update like, “He's in recovery and we're optimistic.” My role model has a long day ahead. My family has a long day ahead. Prayers and good wishes are encouraged and appreciated, and I hope to have good news very soon.