dear dad

Currently listening to: Ode to My Family – Cranberries

My parents were at a friend’s house when he felt blood uncontrollably spilling out of his rectum.  Their friends immediately drove them to the nearest emergency department in the city.  Surprisingly, my dad walked through the doors and was quickly admitted.  They prepped him for a STAT endoscopy.  Mid-way during the procedure, an esophageal varice burst and he coded.  The doctors and nurses began doing CPR were using the defibrillator.  For several minutes, he was lifeless on the hospital bed…when they suddenly got a beat.  They were able to resuscitate him back to life.

He was breathing but with the assistance of a ventilator.  Because his brain was without oxygen for a few minutes, they would need to do an EEG but that would have to happen after they’ve stabilized his condition.

My dad developed Hepatitis B when he was young and it was now in the chronic stage due to lack of treatment while he was growing up.   He wasn’t an alcoholic, he never drank because he was careful not to exacerbate the liver cirrhosis.  He contracted the disease (because the healthcare system in Korea at the time was very poor) when my grandmother gave birth to him (she also had Hepatitis B).

Growing up, we never shared our food and we were careful to habitually wash our hands.  He was receiving top notch care at the Mayo Clinic, one of the most esteemed hospitals in the nation.  He had a renowned gastroenterologist and hepatologist there and had routine appointments where they were monitoring his symptoms.

My brother frantically called me while I was at work.  “We need to go home.  NOW.”  I asked him, “What happened?”  He responded, “Dad’s in the hospital and he’s in a coma.  You need to come home RIGHT now.  I’m getting our plane tickets.  This is an emergency!”

To be honest, I’m not certain how I even drove to my apartment.  I was driving at least 90 miles per hour down the 110 freeway.  I didn’t even turn my car off when I reached my place, I put the car in park and jumped out of my car, ran into my place where my brother was waiting for me.  I grabbed my suitcase and quickly threw in my underwear, bra, change of clothes, contact lenses, and a pair of socks.  I gathered my passport, keys to the apartment, and wallet and hastily put them into my purse.

We drove from Pasadena to LAX in record time.  I was thankful that my brother drove us because I don’t think we would have made it alive if I was driving.  I couldn’t understand how this was even happening.  He had seen his doctors just a couple of days ago and they said that he was doing extremely well.  All his labs were stable and he was taking his medications as prescribed.

I ran all the way to the Delta ticketing counter with tears streaming down my face.  I was a blubbering mess and the agent couldn’t understand what I was trying to say.  My brother intervened and explained the situation and I could see the ticketing agent’s eyes tearing up.  We were able to catch a flight back to MSP that was departing in less than an hour.  If we missed it, the next flight out would not be till the next morning.

We were ushered through TSA and sprinted as fast as we could to the gate, where they were starting to board the passengers.  I didn’t care if they put me in the cargo area of the plane, I needed to go home.  God must have been looking down on us that night because we had the last two seats on the very full plane. I shakily produced my paper ticket to the agent so that we could get on the airplane.  We were seated in the back.  I was rocking back and forth while I prayed during the three and a half hour flight.

“Please God, please don’t let him die…”