This "hospital journey" has been somewhat complicated by two or three incidences of possible human error, which have been what one doctor called a "red herring" and caused setbacks that got in the way of our seeing whether Dad could really recover or not. The latest of these was the amiodarone toxicity which caused his heart to stop literally fifty times over the past four days. Yesterday, Dad was still having a few of these "episodes," but his heart was no longer going down to zero and completely stopping; it would drop to around 20 heartbeats per minute, and then go back up to normal again. Recognising that these days of heart problems have been due to "reversible cause," medical staff have been trying to keep Dad comfortable and see whether the amiodarone can work its way out of his system again. (Now I understand why I felt prompted to pray for the strengthening of his heart when the episodes first began last Wednesday.) Tests show that there is nothing wrong with Dad's heart muscle, and he has not suffered a "heart attack" at any point during this process.
This means that we are now back in the place that we should have been in last week: watching and waiting to see if Dad's body can realistically recover from the multi-organ failure caused by the post-surgery complications. He is breathing for himself, with just a little help from the ventilator, but his stomach and kidney functions have not really kicked in again yet. They took him off the dialysis machine yesterday when a blood clot caused it to pack in, and so now it remains to be seen whether his kidneys will improve or deteriorate on their own, without the help of the filter. And he still has infection at the site of his wound, which could possibly cause fever as time goes by.
We really don't know what to expect, but things don't look good. It's hard to see Dad hanging in there and overcoming impossible odds, yet not having any guarantee whether he will ever make it out of the hospital. Everyone has always said that he has a strong heart and he is a "fighter." I'm trusting that God will help Dad to know if the time comes when it's better to stop fighting and go home. But for now, he keeps rallying, and we as a family continue our daily vigils by his bedside. He recognises us and sometimes talks to us when we are there. Sometimes I sing his favourite hymns to him, or we simply chat about funny memories from his lifetime. Please pray with us that Dad will know peace and freedom from pain; that there will be no more "avoidable setbacks" during this difficult time.
