Tomorrow is D-Day. Tomorrow is the day that my dad goes for the long awaited investigation procedure on his heart. Right now I’m scared. My dad is a tough cookie, but I inherit my anxiety from him and I know that he’ll be sat at home bricking it, praying that time will stand still and tomorrow will hold off for a little while. The harsh reality is that, it won’t.
The hardest thing for me to take in, is that I’ve seen this very procedure. In my final days as a student nurse, before I gave up, I spent many long hours in the Cath Lab watching angiograms. Knowing that my dad will be in those same labs having the very same procedure has been enough to reduce me to tears at several intervals today. The procedure was enough to make me feel sick and the memories make me shiver! I’ve seen grown men cry as the wire enters the arteries.
I have met the consultant that will be performing the procedure tomorrow. The best in the business from what I remember and he taught me a lot during my time in Cardiology, but nevertheless my dad’s fate is in this man’s hands tomorrow. He has expressed that if something is wrong, they will operate straight away, obviously with my dad’s consent.
Over a milky brew and two pieces of toast this morning, I told my dad that no matter how scared he may feel he has to say yes to whatever the doctor says. I felt the roles reverse just for a moment. I was being the level headed, strong person- telling my dad his own saying of ‘look to the other side’.
I may be being strong in front of my dad, but inside I’m starting to crumble at the thought. What if tomorrow they find something really bad? Or my dad has to have a heart bypass? Or a pacemaker? How much impact will that have on his life? I mean seriously, thats life changing. This is what scares me. My dad is my all, the sugar to my tea (even though he never puts it in when he makes me a bloody brew!)
This weekend I went back home. To my old room, my old bed and little me. Sat cuddling my dad on the sofa while he stroked my head and took the p*ss out of me! Typical Tate and Dad night! I felt obliged to do this. To go and stay at home with him. I mean I wanted to, of course, but I really felt I needed to. More than anything, I just wanted to hear him come into my room, turn off the tv and softly say night kate, love you.
I’m rambling now, so I’m going to call it a night I think. I’m praying I can sleep. I’m not convinced I will but I need my sleep! I’m hoping that tomorrow will be good news, I really am. Following a heart attack scar in September I’m not convinced. Fingers and toes are crossed for tomorrow.
I don’t want to have to face the world without my dad.