So, my father's gone for a coronary bypass operation early this week and he has just been discharged from the Intensive Care Unit. Thankfully.
I never really knew what a bypass meant, really, and honestly speaking, I thought it was just pulling some vein here to bypass the vein there...or somefunk like that. But it is much bigger and scarier than that, I can assure you. Yes, I have gotten advice from people, family and friends telling me that it is nothing, that technology is so advanced that it is going to be perfectly successful.
And it was.
But why can't technology make the pain go away? Silly, I know. ^.^
There is nothing in the world that can take away the image of my dad, a human being, after all the anesthesia has worn off and he finally regains consciousness. The gasping for air, the twitches of pain and his plea to not speak and be pumped with more painkillers. It is something that I do not want to ever have to see again. It is the kind of pain that cuts through the silence of the ICU and the beeping of all those machines around him. The helplessness. The feeling of wanting to take the pain away.
Instead of thinking of him as my father, I started thinking of him as a human being. Sometimes we forget that, don't we?
I never really knew what a bypass meant, really, and honestly speaking, I thought it was just pulling some vein here to bypass the vein there...or somefunk like that. But it is much bigger and scarier than that, I can assure you. Yes, I have gotten advice from people, family and friends telling me that it is nothing, that technology is so advanced that it is going to be perfectly successful.
And it was.
But why can't technology make the pain go away? Silly, I know. ^.^
There is nothing in the world that can take away the image of my dad, a human being, after all the anesthesia has worn off and he finally regains consciousness. The gasping for air, the twitches of pain and his plea to not speak and be pumped with more painkillers. It is something that I do not want to ever have to see again. It is the kind of pain that cuts through the silence of the ICU and the beeping of all those machines around him. The helplessness. The feeling of wanting to take the pain away.
Instead of thinking of him as my father, I started thinking of him as a human being. Sometimes we forget that, don't we?
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