30 March 2004
Today is Tuesday 30th March 2004. My Father was diagnosed with an abdominal aortic aneurysm in September last. At that stage it was 5cm. He received another ultrasound in February and the aneurysm had grown to 6cm. It was time for surgery, or so we thought.
A little background. My Dad is 74 and Mam is 72 they have eight children between them and we all live in Ireland. Dad has had two previous strokes but wasn't (thank God) left severely damaged from them. He took seizures afterwards, but thankfully, they were controlled with medication. He has been stable for the last good few months and has been enjoying a relaxed family atmosphere, and of course enjoying the company of his many grandchildren. Perhaps i am biased but he is the most wonderful man I have ever had the pleasure to know. Very wise and totally dependable, everything a Father should be. I am the youngest of eight.
Anyway, the hospital we attend is literally only down the road and the staff and doctors have always been very good to my father throughout strokes, seizures etc. They are wonderful people. Severely under funded and overworked they do their very best all the time without fail.
Dad was brought into hospital two and a half weeks ago, with a view to having all the tests necessary before any surgery. His heart, lungs and kidneys were fine, but the location of the aneurysm meant that he couldn't have the stent graph option. So the only other alternative was the open surgery. Everything seemed fine for the surgery to go ahead last Monday and Mam signed the consent form. We all sat back and worried, knowing that there was risks involved. 7% risk of something going wrong.
On the Tuesday we were informed that the team needed to talk to the family, as they weren't too sure whether they would be doing him any favors by performing the operation at all. We were all stunned. What a turnaround, everything had been fine the day before.
My Mam and my eldest sister and I met with one of the doctors. He told us that Dad had severe brain damage from the strokes and that his chances of coming out of the surgery like somebody with Alzheimer's was 90%. We were stomached!! I asked the doctor how come they didn't know this previous and that we were led to believe beforehand that Dad had good chances. He said that a team member had spoken to Dad and that after much consideration they all came to the conclusion that he was too far gone to operate. We were told that they wouldn't advise an operation.
I considered this a little bit strange and asked a few questions, the doctor knew we weren't happy with this and he invited us to speak to the other consultant. During the course of our conversation with this other consultant we were informed that it was he who had the conversation with Dad and had advised against surgery. The doctor looked as if he was probably of Indian origin and he spoke in a rapid and low manner. We were requested to go back home, think it over and talk to the rest of the family, to come back in and talk to them on Friday.
Of course, everybody was torn to pieces, some saying he shouldn't be put through the ordeal with such huge risks and others, including myself questioning the whole scenario.
After much discussion we came to the conclusion that the doctors had the scans of my dad's brain all along and wanted to know whether they were just going on medical evidence or if they were going on the conversation that the consultant had with Dad, whom I might add is very hard of hearing. We also, decided to talk to Dad and tell him what was going on. Dad decided for himself that even if there was only a 10% chance for him he would go through with the operation. (A big decision for somebody who was being looked on as being mentally deficient)
We went back on Friday with all our questions, and were told to our disbelief that the Chief Vascular Surgeon had a conversation with my Dad that morning and deemed him to be of sound mind and quite capable of having the operation. He had been made aware that there was some disquiet amongst the family and that he decided to "speak to the man himself". Well, the conclusion is that Dad just quite frankly couldn't hear and couldn't understand the other guys accent!! Unbelievable!!!
Dad was due to go down to surgery this morning. Unfortunately, there was an emergency and his surgery has been put back to Thursday. We are all still reeling from the roller coaster ride that we've been on, and of course worried sick even more so now that something could go wrong.
I believe the surgeon he is under is fantastic though, and that he couldn't be in better hands. All the same, it makes you wonder, these people have the power of life or death, they save so many lives and of course they are very good people. But for anybody out there reading this, it would just make you think!! Always ask questions until you are completely satisfied with any decision being made. Mistakes are made and the consequences can be disastrous!
I hope and pray to God that Dad will come through his operation OK and that his recovery will be swift. He is aware that there are risks involved but there is no other alternative. He is very nervous about the whole thing as are we. I've thralled through the internet looking for information and have scared myself sensless to be honest. I hope our story ends a happy one. If your reading this please pray that it does. I'll post again afterwards.
Update: 9 May 2004
It's Friday 7th May. Dad has had his surgery. I believe that most people who have this surgery end up in intensive care on a ventilator. Well, Dad pleasantly surprised everybody, surgeon included, by breathing on his own after the operation. We were told that he didn't have to go to the Intensive Care Unit as he was doing so well, that he would be put into the High Care Unit, which is seemingly a step down from ICU.
The whole family ended up in the hospital that evening. It was nail biting waiting to see him after he woke up. We waited hours and hours. We had been told the surgery went well and that the doctors were pleased with him, but because of all the fuss in the beginning about him ending up brain damaged after the operation, we were all extremely anxious to speak to him and make sure that he was still the same Dad as we had spoken to the day before.
Eventually we saw him and he was still very groggy after the anaesthetic, but recognised us and kinda let us know in his own way that he was ok, but very very tired.
Day one of recovery: Mam, my sister and I go in to see him. Wow!! He's lying up in bed and looks amazing for someone who has been through so much. We have a little chat with him, but don't stay too long as he is still very tired. He has drainage tubes and tubes with pain killers in them coming out of him, and monitors with strange looking readings on them.
Day two of recovery: He's actually sitting out of bed and is in very good form. Tubes are still there, his wrists, belly and feet look kinda swollen, but he is in marvellous form, chatting and looking forward to coming home soon. I keep my eye on the monitors and ask the nurse to explain them to me. It's ok though, they're just keeping check on his pulse, heartbeat and blood pressure. The nurse tells us that he is doing better than some men half his age do. He lets us examine the scar from the operation. It's from the middle of his chest right the way down to his groin. There looks to be some kind of staples holding it together. Yuk! He says it's ok though, and that it's more uncomfortable than painful. We go home thrilled.
It took Dad about 4 days in the High Care Unit and another week in an ordinary ward to be discharged. He came home and is still doing really well. He had his first visit with the surgeon a few weeks later and they were very happy with him. He's to go for another scan to see how his repair on the aneurysm is doing. I believe the graft is meant to become like part of your body. Amazing!! The cells on the body join onto it and make it their own.
Mam is doing really well looking after him. She is the main carer and although sometimes very tired and stressed with the whole thing, she is starting to relax again and get back into her normal regime. The whole ordeal takes a lot out of everybody in the family, but none more so than Mam. She's amazing!
Well, that's it for now. We are all over the moon with the outcome. It has been a learning experience. Dad continues to amaze us with his recovery. His scar looks like a thin red pen line at this stage. Sometimes he gets a bit down, at the idea of the whole thing, but he knows how very lucky he is, and it doesn't take very long to cheer him up and bring a smile to his handsome face.
I'd like to thank everybody who sent me mails and good wishes. You are all very very good. I kept them and intend showing them to Dad when the time is right. I told him about people from all over the world mailing me wishing him the best of luck and praying for him. I guess he must have felt kinda vulnerable cause it brought a little tear to his eye, which of course I pretended not to notice. In particular I would like to wish Jim and Alice in Iowa the very best. Thanks a million for this website and for all the support and help it brings to people world over.
Thanks to the superb surgeon in James Hospital, Dublin, and to his wonderful team. And of course thanks to God above for all our many blessings.T