The Conclusion
It’s more than a little ironic that he corrects me on the date. For many months he had no idea what day it was. He often didn’t know where he was or who he was. Or who I was. Or why this had happened to him. Or why he couldn’t sit up or stand up or eat or drink.
After the tracheostomy (surgery #6), he asked me why he couldn’t remember anything between the end of March and the end of June. Well, actually he wrote the question on a small dry erase board because the trach robbed him of his voice. I told him he didn’t want to remember anything before the end of June. I told him I think the human mind sometimes protects us from extreme trauma. Unfortunately, I remember every single thing that happened between the end of March and the end of June. My mind seems unable to protect me from that trauma. So I told him I can tell him anything he wants to know, but it’s probably best he doesn’t know.
Here we are on the morning of March 24th, right before his initial gastric bypass procedure:
Oh, how innocent and oblivious we all are. Here is how we spent much of the next few months:
Spring turned into summer.
After five months in Intensive Care, we moved to a ventilator weaning facility in Greensboro.
Our last day in Intensive Care.
Summer turned into fall. He successfully weaned off of the ventilator and we moved back to Durham Regional. He was accepted in the Durham Rehabilitation Institute. He learned how to walk again:
I celebrated a birthday.
Fall turned into winter. Nine months and four days after it all began, I took him home.
December 28, 2010
When I made the decision to move from New York to North Carolina, I came down with three objectives:
#1: save father’s life
#2: rehabilitate father
#3: get father home
It takes nine months to create a human life, and apparently it takes nine months to save one as well. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. It was the worst year of my life. But I achieved all of my objectives. I did everything I set out to do.
So my work here is done.
Tags: gastric bypass surgery, taking care of your parents, triumph
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December 30, 2010 at 11:57 am
It was an honor to be amongst those with whom you shared your experience. Your father was being carried by you, and you were being lifted by everyone who loves you. Now come back to NYC!!!
December 30, 2010 at 11:57 am
Jennifer, you are a gift. You are a beautiful gift. Sitting here behind my desk with tears (of sadness first then joy) sliding down my cheek. Your father’s steps out of the hospital showcases your undying love and determination to see this day come. You are a gift. May he continue his successful recovery and you enjoy every day together. Love, Kelly
December 30, 2010 at 11:58 am
Congratulations to you both! What an incredible journey this year has been, thank you for being brave enough to go through with it and share it with us. Know that you’ve been in my thoughts and prayers throughout. Your strength in this upsetting, infuriating, and sometimes desolate time has been an inspiration. Happy New Year.
December 30, 2010 at 12:12 pm
It has always been an honor to know you. First for your talent, next for your passion and now for your fortitude.
December 30, 2010 at 12:25 pm
Blevvy. I am so proud of you both. So incredibly proud.
December 30, 2010 at 2:56 pm
Jennifer, seriously you are my hero right now. I’m amazed by you. This story is inspiring beyond words. The bond you and your father have is incredible. Much love, Kim
December 30, 2010 at 3:27 pm
Hey Blevins. What a triumph for you both. I love hearing your laugh-not only because it sounds joyful after a long, strenuous journey, but because I miss it in general. Love you.
December 30, 2010 at 3:35 pm
This blog post is a motherfuckin’ WORD UP. Y’all are TOTALLY GOING TO DISNEYLAND.
December 30, 2010 at 3:36 pm
There really are no words for something as unbelievable as this experience. Well, maybe there are and maybe, being one of the best writers I have ever read, you will write them someday.
Amazing!
December 30, 2010 at 4:40 pm
Jennifer, thank you for sharing this. It was amazing to see your father walk out of the hospital. I do hope he will maintain and improve his health. I also hope you will continue to write about it. xo
December 30, 2010 at 7:58 pm
2010, Fuck off.
Blevinses, you have kicked ass.
December 30, 2010 at 9:26 pm
Jennifer, Congrats to you and your family. I remembered you telling me about your blog when you were at Kindred, and it just so happened that I checked today to see if there were any updates for the holidays. What great news it was to see Mr. Blevins walk out of the hospital, What a difference from just a few months ago. I know you and your family were a huge part of your family’s success. Best of Luck to you guys in 2011, and keep on your dad about working hard in rehab. Congrats again!!!
December 30, 2010 at 9:51 pm
TRIUMPH, indeed! Thank you sooooooooooo much for posting that video and sharing your blog/journey. An incredible inspiration you ALL are. I am going to kick ass in 2011 because, now, I see what kicking ass truly is. I love you, Blevinses.
December 31, 2010 at 9:03 am
Blevins,
More than any of the miracles of this year with your dad, I cannot but see and wish for more than anything else…LOVE. You define it ,embrace it, and grow it. I know your daddy loves you and to him and all of us, you have SHOWN us what love is.
Xo