Today, I’m in the ICU waiting room at one of our local hospitals. I’ve been here for about five hours so far. My dad had triple-bypass surgery. I’m waiting to see him.
This all came about rather suddenly. I took Dad to the ER Sunday night with left arm pain and chest discomfort. Nothing too bad. It came and went. Dad’s in good shape. He swims a half mile several times a week, takes care of his home, mows the lawn, does the yard work. He never smoked. How could he have three blockages?
My only sibling lives in Indiana. She wanted to be here today but decided she could help even more by coming to stay with him around the clock once he comes home. My mom, after a two-year battle with cancer, passed away two months ago.
I felt okay about it. I’m not one to ask people to rearrange their schedules. Besides, I had an article to finish writing and a good book to read. I knew many faithful friends were praying. After giving my dad a kiss and a squeeze (and fighting back a few tears), I found my assigned spot, prayed for the docs and for my dad, and got to work.
After an hour or two, I looked up to find a smiling face in the doorway. A dear friend came—on her only day off—to sit with me. It was wonderful to see her. Time flew as we caught up over hot drinks and granola bars. We laughed together, talked about our kids, and wondered about what the future held for both of us. Before she left, we prayed together. A sweet time in the midst of crisis.
I’m still waiting, yet it’s been a grace-filled day.