AUTHOR: M. DATE: 7:41:00 PM ----- BODY:

It's actually your re-birth-day, but I'll take it. Four years ago exactly Mom called and said "Everything's okay, but Dad's not feeling too good." You had been admitted to the hospital with acute pancreatitis. I talked to you the next day, and you reported that, aside from feeling like you had been beaten with a baseball bat, things were looking up. Things looked down. Three days later, having developed Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome, you were sent downstairs to the ICU. They pumped you full of drugs to keep you unconscious, prevent you from having a stroke, and support your working organs. They put a vent down your throat since they had given you so many drugs you couldn't breathe on your own. They hooked you up to so many monitors it was hard to talk over the beeping - not that we had much to say, as we sat next to your bed and watched you breathing via machine for the next 19 days. We watched while you fought pneumonia and a septic infection, and dealt with insulin injections, CT scans, and lung x-rays, all from the depths of your chemical coma. We watched the urine bag intently so we could say "his kidneys are still kicking!" Some doctors were assholes, others were saviors. All were very skilled. The nurses were unfailingly warm and breathtakingly lifesaving - for us as well as for you. Everyone gave us noncommittal answers when we asked about your test results. On my 26th birthday I put my head down on your bed and promised I wouldn't ask for anything else if I could have my birthday wish. We were flooded with emails and packages full of junk food and crossword puzzles. I. drove 13 hours overnight to be with us. People we hadn't seen in years sent flowers. When you finally woke up, you were convinced you were Justinius the Roman Emperor. You didn't remember that your father was gone, or who the president was. You developed a national plan to reform managed care. You had a long conversation with a nurse who had been on the same base in Japan where you went to recover from Vietnam, even though you couldn't remember your age or what state you lived in. But your body was awake, and eventually the rest of your brain followed suit. After almost nine weeks, we rolled you in your wheelchair down to the ICU so you could say thank you. The staff made a big fuss over you, and then they sent you on home. Last weekend we walked three miles together on suburban sidewalks. You went to the gym. You played with your great-nieces and -nephews at Thanksgiving dinner and stuffed yourself with turkey. You told me about the workshop you had given the week before and all the great feedback you had gotten from your colleagues. Happy birthday indeed.

-------- COMMENT-AUTHOR: Away2me COMMENT-DATE:8:16 AM COMMENT-BODY:Wow! What a story. My bestfriend died April 2002 from a car accident. She battled ARDS and many of the same things your dad experienced. I'm so glad your dad's story ended happy.
Happy Birthday to him! -------- COMMENT-AUTHOR: FemiKnitMafia COMMENT-DATE:8:40 AM COMMENT-BODY:Whoah. I know this story, and still ... your writing is so powerful. I feel like someone is sitting on my chest.

Wonderful Dad, wonderful photo of Dad, so glad he's around to play with you and all the new babies.

It took a lot of courage to put that out. Kudos! -------- COMMENT-AUTHOR: Anonymous COMMENT-DATE:9:40 PM COMMENT-BODY:As you know, you called me just at the moment I finished reading this blog (how did you do that?). Also as you know, I was so touched that I was in tears. This is absolutely the best "birthday" card I could have gotten.
No one could wish for a better daughter than you, and I'm so happy to be your dad!
Love you. --------