For the Love of Pops

         "What do you think?"

         "Well, I think that Mr. Penn is well-loved by his family, but I don't think they really understand how bad of shape he's in.  I'm surprised he survived the angioplasty.  That procedure alone instigated a heart attack."

         "I agree, but like you said, the love of this man's family is so strong I feel compelled to give him a chance."

         "If you think there's a possibility we can do him any good without killing him in the OR, I'll help you with the surgery."

         "I'll let the family know of our decision.  Let me call in Dr. Hinton and Dr. Brunts as consulting physicians.  They're two of the top cardiologists in the country.  If anyone can help Mr. Penn, it would be the two of them."

         "Sounds good. Let me know when you have him scheduled.  Time is of the essence: each minute we wait increases his risk of another attack."

         "I'll schedule him for 5:00 am tomorrow morning."

         "I'll be there."

         Whew...now what do I do? I wondered as I crumpled my napkin and tossed it on the cafeteria tray.  Oh, Pops.  What would we do without you?  I cleared my table and walked slowly toward the bank of elevators.

         "Sandra.  Pssst...Sandra," I whispered from the door of Pop's room.  I gestured for her to join me in the hallway.

         "Sandra, I overheard the doctors in the cafeteria.  They're worried about Pops making it through surgery, but they said the love of his family is so strong they want to give him a chance."

         "Shhh, shhh, shhh," Sandra soothed, taking me in her arms.  "We'll make it through this as a family, Deborah."  My sister rocked me in her embrace.  "We need to call Sarah."

         "I know," I sniffed.

         Sarah, our baby sister, lived three hours away.  She'd been unable to get away but would have to see Pops before surgery.

         "Do you want me to call her?" Sandra asked.

         I nodded.  Sandra was the oldest and always the strongest.  She was the level-headed, sensible one; I was the brooding, emotional one; Sarah was the silly one:  together we were a virtually unstoppable force to be reckoned with.

         We sat with Pops all day, holding his hand as he slept, comforting him with our love and concern, making sure he got plenty of rest.  Sarah arrived late in the afternoon; Sandra and I met her in the lobby.

         "How's Pops?" she asked immediately.

         "Weak, but asking to see the three of us together."

         Sarah looked at me and I nodded and looked away.  As we neared the door to ICU I paused.  "I'm going to use the restroom before we go back," I told them, hoping they'd go on ahead giving me a moment to collect myself.

         "Good idea," Sarah laughed.  "I drove straight here and drank a 48 oz soda on the way!"

         We brushed our hair and straightened our clothes before continuing.  As we walked through the ICU doors arm in arm we saw the team of cardiologists confering in the hallway.

         "Is he okay?" Sandra asked, running ahead.  Sarah and I stopped in our tracks and clasped each others hands.

         "No change, really," one of the doctors replied, relieving our tension.  "We just wanted to let Mr. Penn know that we've scheduled him for surgery tomorrow morning at 5:00 am.  The team from anesthesiology will be up for him at 4:00 am and we'll get him prepped and ready."

         One of the doctors handed Sandra a package.  "These are the papers explaining the procedures we'll be doing and the care that will be required afterward.  We expect he'll be here for at least a week and in that time, the nurses will teach you everything that needs to be done.  We've been informed that the three of you will be caring for him since his insurance doesn't provide for in-home nursing care.  Is that correct?"

         "That's right," I confirmed as Sarah and I joined the group.

         "We've recommended a nursing service that will work with you on a payment plan.  They can visit on a daily or weekly basis to check vital signs and inspect the incision for signs of infection.  They will also teach you how to care for your father's needs at home.  All of that information is contained in this packet," he concluded, tapping the envelope in Sandra's hand.

         "Would it be okay for Pops to see his grandchildren tonight?" I asked.

         The doctors looked at each other and nooded.  "A brief visit should be fine; just one or two at a time, mind you, and try not to let him get overly tired or winded."

         The three of us nodded as the doctors turned toward the elevators. 

         We spent the next few hours with Pops.  All six of his grandchildren were able to see him that night before visiting hours ended. 

         The girls came through the door arm in arm.  "Look, it's 'the three musketeers'," Pops quiped weakly.  They spent a few moments, shared tearful hugs and 'I love you's', and left as quietly as they had come.

         A knock at the door announced the arrival of the boys, who entered single file, hands clenched behind their backs, their solemn expressions holding back the wellspring of tears.  As desperately as they tried to keep their composure, one look from Pops broke the dam wide open and they wept just as the girls had, fearing it would be their last conversation with their beloved patriarch.

         Finally, we kissed Pops goodnight and took our leave as well. 

         "We'll take good care of him overnight," the nurse assured us as we passed the desk.  Strengthened and encouraged by the optimism of the doctors, we felt sure that the surgery would go well...but that didn't keep us from worrying.

967 words

         Prompt:  Imagine you are in a diner or cafe somewhere, anywhere. You overhear a conversation you weren't meant to overhear. Write a story or poem about what you heard and how it affected you.

         NOTE:  This story is based on a true story.  Pops had his open heart surgery four years ago.  They had him on the operating table for over six hours and were only able to complete half of the bypasses they had intended because the blockages were much worse than expected once they got inside.  He was so weak they didn't expect he'd ever go home, but the family pulled together.  Many of us were at the hospital every day to encourage him and strengthen his resolve to recover.  Sandra, Sarah, and I learned how to care for him and clean his incisions.  Within two weeks he was strong enough to come home. 

         He still has plenty of serious health issues, but to date he's enjoyed four more years of love from his family, watched three grandchildren graduate high school, mopped away tears as two granddaughters married wonderful young men, and had the joy of teaching one grandson carpentry, home repair, and how to drive.  This morning he drove a school bus, as he does every week day, and will meet us here at the house for lunch and a nap before going on his afternoon routes.

We love you, Pops!