The Opposite of Last Weekend

While last weekend was spent running PR marathons and celebrating in the sunshine, this weekend was completely different.  Friday afternoon around 3:00, my sister called to tell me that Dad had fallen off a ladder and was going to the hospital because he broke his shoulder.  I called Mom and then left work and headed to Fayetteville to meet them at the hospital.  While I was on the phone with her, I could hear Dad in pain sitting next to her and my heart dropped down into my stomach.

I arrived to find him in the emergency room with an ice pack on his right wrist, which was holding his left arm in place.  He had already been to get his x-rays and that just about sent him over the edge. By the time I got there, he had received pain medication and was still hurting, but not as badly.  He was talking and smiling, with maybe a grimace or two mixed in when he tried to move.

The prognosis was not good.  He had broken his wrist and his shoulder and both would require surgery.  The shoulder was so badly broken that it was possible it would need a replacement.  We would learn more about that from the doctor the next day.

I spent that night with Mom and we got up early Saturday morning to see Dad before his wrist surgery where they would be putting in a plate.  The shoulder, however, would be waiting until Monday or Tuesday.  While he was in surgery Mom and I grabbed some coffee and talked while waiting for the doctor to come tell us Dad was out of surgery.

I stayed with Dad all day Saturday.  After his surgery he did a lot of sleeping, but when he was awake we talked and I gave him apple juice.  While he slept I read or watched him and prayed.  It broke my heart to see him so uncomfortable.  I wanted to tell the doctor to do the surgery NOW.  I wanted Dad to be fixed and beginning the healing process.  I wanted his shoulder to be okay, not needing a replacement.  The doctor told us that shoulder replacements were not the greatest things and that it was very hard to regain full range of motion with a shoulder replacement.  It would need at least a year of physical therapy and even then...

So I prayed for the ball joint to be saved, but it was not to be.  The CT scans showed that it had split too much, which would cause the bone to die.  It had to be replaced after all.

It was very hard to leave Mom and Dad and go home Saturday evening.  I knew there was nothing more for me to do and I had jokingly given Mom detailed instructions on the administering of apple juice.  Since leaving, however, Dad has constantly been on my mind.  He is hands down one of my most favorite people in this world.  I have always viewed him as one of the best gifts God has given me and I am thankful for him every day of my life.  As I've said before, he is one of the most amazing men I have ever known and my love for him cannot possibly be measured or described adequately.

So my heart has been heavy all weekend as I have watched him struggle and hurt and undergo all sorts of procedures and discomfort because of his injuries.  It wasn't until I watched Mom describe the fall from the ladder that I realized I should not be so sad.  I should be grateful!  He fell almost 8 feet to the ground.  What if he had hit his head?  Or something equally as horrible?   As I sat watching Dad sleep, I still prayed for complete healing and an easing of his pain in the process.  But I said a great big thank you as well.  He would be okay, after all.

While the recovery process may be slow and laborious, I know Dad can and will do it.  He is one of the most determined, disciplined and steady men I know, and he will stay the course until his shoulder is 100% again.  And what's more, he will do it without complaining or whining or being grumpy. 

The big shoulder surgery is tomorrow, and I welcome prayers from any and all readers inclined to do so.  I pray also for my sweet Mom who is by Dad's side tirelessly and lovingly assisting him with whatever he needs.  My sister and I are going up as we can, while wishing we could just stay.  Despite this accident, it is still evident that God has remained close to us through all of it and I am so very thankful for that.