It's been two years...

I can't believe it's been exactly two years ago today that my dad had his heart surgery. When my mom told me he was having sextuple bypass surgery (yes, that's SIX arteries!), I didn't think that was possible. I thought quadruple was as many as they could do! Unfortunately, heart issues run in the Voeller side of the family. The scariest part was that he didn't even realize he had a heart attack.

My mom was the rock that held everyone together throughout the whole thing. She's the most optimistic, patient and nurturing person I've ever known. She somehow always knew exactly what needed to be done, what questions to ask the doctors, what would make my dad comfortable, and just how to get through it all. It was extremely tough on her, but there wasn't a day that she wasn't at the hospital or sending out emails and text messages with updates. I aspire to be the wife that she is someday. My brothers and sister were also such a big part of my dads recovery. My brother Bob came up for the surgery, and Debbie came up afterwards to help with the recovery once he was home to help my mom out a little.

AMEN for FAMILY.

Our family uses a LOT of humor in our every day interactions, and especially during the harder times. My favorite story was when my dad was on morphine for the pain in the hospital. He would have this serious look on his face and start telling us all about the midget kung-foo fighting mongolians that were hiding in his garbage can. To this day, he denies telling us these stories, but there's no way we'll ever let him live them down!

The doctors and nurses were AMAZING at St. Joes.... the nurses kept telling him to think of the song from Madagascar, "you've got to move it, move it" so he would continue to exercise and get his heart working. In true stubborn German fashion, he was determined to recover and get the heck out of the hospital as fast as he could. 

When he was released from the hospital, the doctors and nursing staff all gave him a pillow and signed it, in the shape of a heart. That thing was like a security blanket for him. He had to squeeze it when he needed to cough or sneeze, but the personal touch on it reminded him of all of the people who helped him out at the hospital.

Now two years have passed, and no more heart attacks and all of the regular follow up visits have been good! Thank goodness for stubborn Germans, good doctors, good nurses and the best family in the world.