On Being Present

Recently my dad had to be hospitalized due to gallstones. He doesn’t have a gallbladder but he developed gallstones. Weird? Yes, but I googled and we all know that you can trust everything you find during a Google search and there it was.

Anyway.

He went to Urgent Care on a Tuesday because he’d lost part of his hearing aid in his ear and couldn’t retrieve it. The doctor there gave him one look and told him he needed to go to the emergency room.

He was yellow, an obvious indication that his liver wasn’t working well.

The small hospital in our hometown determined that he had gallstones and sent him to the larger hospital in Fort Wayne.

I talked to him the evening before he was transferred to Fort Wayne. He sounded okay but tired.

The next morning, I went to work, texted my brother and sister and called my dad. He told me the doctor said he needed surgery. They were going to try and get him in that morning.

The ladies with whom I worked told me that if I needed to leave, I was free to do so.

I called my dad again and asked him if he wanted someone to be there for his consults and when he got out of his surgery.

He replied, “That’s not necessary.”

I told him, “I know it’s not necessary but is it something that would give you comfort? I know when I had my surgeries, it was nice to know that someone I loved and who loved me was waiting for me to wake up.”

He agreed that it would be lovely to have someone there.

I went.

It was by far the right thing to do.

My dad is fine. He came through his surgery without any issues. They inserted a stent into his bile duct so he could pass the stones they hadn’t been able to remove. They were able to remove one stone but had to leave several because they simply couldn’t retrieve them.

I texted my brother and sister from my car before I left for the hospital to let them know I was going. My brother expressed frustration that he has no vacation days left so he couldn’t leave work to go.

My sister, well, she was having some trees cut down that day and she had to go to court (I didn’t ask) and so wasn’t able to go to the hospital herself. She did go and pick my dad up the next day when he was released so I was able to stay at work.

When I got to the hospital, my dad was already in surgery. He was brought back from recovery about two hours after I got there. He was groggy and cold but otherwise doing well.

I think he enjoyed our one-on-one time that afternoon. I stayed with him for several hours, listening to his stories and just keeping him company.

We both needed that.

Being there, just being a physical presence for someone, takes so little of us and sometimes, it feels like so much. I know that I could have stayed at work that day and stayed in touch by phone with my dad’s nurse but actually going to the hospital and being nearby when he woke up, that was precious.

My dad is a month away from turning 80 years old.

I’m so lucky, so grateful that he’s still here, still doing so well, so present in my life.