TALK TO A
Established April 15, 1995
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Bob Wild, 1997, camping trip up northern Minnesota
Hi all. I am a 28 yr old surviving son of someone that passed away in 1998 from a aneurysm/hemmorage. My Father! I was adopted at 1½ yr's old by my parents Robert (Bob..he really disliked being called Robert..."it's to formal" he would say) and Claudia Wild. I have an older sister that is married an has 2 kids 12 (Zach) an 14 (Hannah). He has 2 living brothers: Paul (youngest), an Stan Wild (middle). There were 4 boys all together. Joe Wild died of a heart attack at 33 in 1978 (few months after i was born) My father was 53 in 1998 an my mother right now is 60 in 2007. My parents married at age 16, my mom an 19, my dad...were married 33 years.
5 February 2007
The day before was normal..we were all sitting down at the dinner table talking about what happened that day at his work an what not. He was going in the next morning to have his kidney stones checked out so all he has was beef broth an my mom an i had t-bones an potatoes my dad's favorite.
I was in a dead sleep when my mom came into my room waking me saying "there's something wrong w/ dad"..i said "yea right"..my dad wasn't a complainer..worked hard...always took pride in his work..a wonderful family man...smart *him/my mom/sister built 6 houses an my dad designed/built/plumber/electrical/he knew a lot of things. She left the room...then came back a few min.'s later an said "there is something very wrong w/ dad"...i said..."ok...ok...this better be good dad" (he liked being a grown-up kid)...playing pranks...me an him having fly-swatter wars, playing cars together on the brown carpet steps..buggin' me to get up an eat breakfast w/ him an mom an drive him to the end of the driveway (he was my driving teacher from 12 yr's old)an i would walk back.
Well, i walked into the bedroom an he wasn't in there...so i proceeded into the bath room...an there he was...in between the toilet an the bathroom counter w/ his head on the small garbage can lightly foaming at the mouth. When i spoke to him he recognized me but couldn't speak..i put out my hand to him...an he grasped it an held on to me very snuggly...i talked to him the whole time...while my mom called the ambulance. He was tough...but he couldn't stop what was happenening.
He was admitted into St. Mary's Hospital (where he worked as an electrition) on April 19th, 1998. MRI's were done...a lot of work by the best neurosurgons in the system was done to figure out what happened. They finally concluded an told me/mom/sister/his 2 living brothers that surgery would be required to save his life, but he would be a vegetable the rest of his life. The first procedure was to remove the right half of his brain (dead tissue over 95% of the whole lobe). That was a success. Then more pressure was building from the left side lobe to the right...so they removed the fluid an made a 3 in hole on the rear top of his skull to allow the pressure to reside. But it did not reside, it over-swelled an came out of the hole. Inbetween surgeries i would talk to him holding his hand (tearing up) an he would respond by slight eye movement an firming an unfirming of his hand to say yes an no.
When the surgons finally came to us an told us that there was nothing more to do...my mom screamed...an everyone started to cry..i got up an walked out of the room an wanted to leave, but my dad's youngest bro came to me an told me to say goodbye...i asked everyone to leaave the room..an i talked to him in private.."i love you dad", hugged him an left the room...an said...i am going home..i can't take it anymore.
The surgons asked my mom to donate his organs an they were. (he never smoked/drank/drugs...) But my mom could not tell them to pull the plug, so my sister an i verified it to do so. He finally made his decent to where he needed to go on April 26th 1998 at 2:10 a.m.
I have a 4 year old son through a marriage/divorce that i cannot wait to tell him all about his Grandpa Wild.
I have never found such a wonderful site to express what has happened to me an to read so many uplifting stories about people that have lived an found sorrow an familar reactions w/ reading the family members stories that this has taken their loved ones life.
When my work SMDC (doctors...ect) throw out neurology books i grab 'em an am going to start reading them.
TY So Much.
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