opticnerve

The thing I fear the most happened last night. I got a late night phone call from home. It was my sister on the other end. The first thing she said to me was, 'Don't freak out'. I knew something was wrong. My father had had a heart attack about 40 minutes before she called me. He had arrived home, after having picked up my mom from her job. My nephew had accompanied him, and was asleep in his car seat by the time they had arrived home. Even though my mom said she would wake him and have him walk into the house, my dad, ever the doting grandfather, insisted that he carry my nephew inside. As he was conveying my nephew up the driveway, he felt a pain in his chest and stumbled. It was a heart attack. My sister called the paramedics and once they arrived, they were able to stabilize his condition and take him to the hospital. When my sister called, he was on the way to the ER.

After my sister hung up, I frantically dialed my mom's cell number. She answered immediately and knew I was calling. She was in the ambulance with my dad on the way to the hospital. She sounded okay for the most part, but I could detect a note of worry in her voice, in spite of her assurances. She told me that she would call me once my dad was settled into the hospital and a cardiologist had had a chance to look at him.

By this time, it was 11pm. I wouldn't hear from her again until 2am. For the next three hours, all I could think about was how much I love my dad and how scared I was that we would lose him, before I got a chance to tell him what he means to me. My dad and I don't share the same interests, and although he's proud of my accomplishments, sometimes I think he doesn't get what I do for a living. We are on the polar sides of the political spectrum on a lot of issues. He has, though, given me the core traits that make me who I am. My sense of decency, my strong work ethic, my pride in honest labour, my humility, my notion that always doing the right thing will never go out of fashion, my idea of loyalty and of fair play, my strong belief that love of family is unconditional. My dad is not a rich man, but what he has given me is worth more than all the riches in history. He, along with my mom, are the two best human beings I know in my life. You can understand, then, how over-wrought I was over this thing that had happened to him.

Anyway, my dad got to the hospital and the cardiologist was able to clear the blockage that had caused his attack. The doctor said my dad was in good health, but we were very fortunate that the paramedics had gotten to him when they did, because if there had been a delay in treating him, the damage to his heart would have been more severe. I know that a belief in Christianity is not a popular thing amongst people on this site, so skip this part if you're an atheist. I really thank God for blessing my dad last night with the prompt and competent medical attention that saved his life.

So now I sit here, tarrying at my laptop when I should be getting ready to go back to Toronto to help out my parents, hoping that writing all the stuff I've been feeling for the last day will help alleviate some of my worry. While I am relieved that my dad is okay, I can't help but feel like we dodged a bullet. My dad is a pretty healthy 71 year old. He's active, he doesn't smoke, he has a fairly healthy diet, he doesn't drink. When I asked my mom what, in his lifestyle, could have caused his heart attack, she said simply that my dad is just getting old. That statement kept me up all night. We're all living on borrowed time, and we don't know when or how we will meet our ends. All we can do is just love each other, and express to those people whom we love how much they mean to us, every single day.