Life as a Daughter of Agent Orange, Part 9

As I was working on homework tonight, the swirl of emotions filled me to the point where I realized I desperately needed to work on this next part of my story. Then I realized how school, work, my photography, and my sister's wedding planning put writing on the back-burner. So, without further ado, here I go!

I last left off feeling frustrated with my dad because he was soaking in all of the attention pre-surgery and acting like nothing was happening. The day finally came when he and Mom would go to the House of Hope the night before because he had to be prepped extra early the next day. I have to say, it was nice having the house just to my sister, the dogs, and I. My sister and I did some "surgery shopping" where we picked out a bunch of junk food to munch on for the eight hours it was going to take for dad to be finished. We dawdled a bit because neither one of us really wanted to spend the day waiting for someone who did not care about life to come out of surgery with another "free pass." I had so many emotions going through me that day, and nearly every day since in the past year. A part of me hoped he would not make it so we could finally be free and as soon as I thought that, the righteous part of me slammed me with guilt. To say I was an emotional mess is an understatement, even with the assistance of depression medicine.

After agonizing and warring with myself for hours, the surgeon came in and told us it went well. I felt sick to my stomach because somehow, he beat the dangerous odds of the procedure with flying colors and we were left in bondage. I do not think any of us were prepared for the extent of the equipment that was needed. When I first saw him, it was like something out of a science-fiction movie. There were so many tubes and machines in and around him. I did not know how to react, let alone know what to say to him. Mom left me with him while she went to check on my sister and while she was away the scariest thing I've ever seen happened. Dad started to "choke"—he could not actually choke since he was on a ventilator, but the sensation was similar. I did not know that and so I rushed to the nurse's station to get help and all I could picture was him dying on my watch. It took his nurse forever to come to the room and when she finally did, she told me what I told you about the "choking." At that point it did not matter what she said; all I could picture was the look of terror on my dad's face and how he turned bright red with all his coughing. At that moment, I was done with hospitals and I wanted to go home. Mom came back soon afterward and when I told her what happened, she asked Dad if he was glad I was there and he squeezed my hand hard in response. I took a picture of our hands gripping each other seeing as in that moment, he was actually happy with me.

I will not bore you with all the hospital details, but know this: Dad on narcotics was funny. It was like the narcotics turned off the Mr. Hyde part of his brain and he was the dad I knew from when I was a child. He was kind, he complimented Mom in front of the nursing staff, he was legitimately funny, and he cared about what was happening to him. I told Mom to soak it all in because I knew as soon as the narcotics were taken away, Mr. Hyde would return and all hell would be unleashed—and once again, I was right. He would yell at the nurses for them trying to do their job, which was to get him up and moving so he could leave the ICU, he refused to do what the surgeon told him to do, he snapped and verbally abused mom (who was there day in and day out doing nothing but serving him), and he wanted to give up. The only motivational leverage we had was one of our dogs, Lucy. She was the one he wanted to see; not his two daughters living with him or the daughters living in another state.

Home life while he was gone was pleasant, to say the least. There was nobody at home with negative energy to infect the peacefulness. My sister and I enjoyed the alone time we had with each other and the dogs, knowing all too soon it would be over.

Once again, this is all the emotion I can handle at the moment. I am currently riding out a low bout of depression and I do not want to increase the negativity in my mind with continuing my story tonight. Thank you for reading and stay tuned for the next segment.