The Heart of a Champion

ring ring ring, you all know the feeling. I was at the gym where I don't normally answer the phone, but when it rang 2 weeks ago, I ran to it. My Mom had called earlier that morning and I had missed it, I tried to call her back no less than 20 times, just kept going to voicemail. Mark thought something was wrong also. So when I answered the phone the first thing I asked her was "is everything ok"? For those of you who are around my age this is the phone call that you know is going to happen someday, or maybe it already has, but your never really ready for it. My Mom told me all about what was happening with my Dad, chest pains, trip to the ER in the ambulance, not sure what is going on or what it is that is ailing him. I start the sibling phone tree and of course my mind starts to race. My Mom is a wreck, my parents have been married for 58 years (after meeting on a blind date!) they are literally attached at the hip. Mark starts checking flights, I know what has to happen. I have to get to them.

They had departed Florida for their yearly trip home to MN on May 13th, they always take their time, checking out the scenery and hitting every casino in between! Tunica, which is located in MS is always one of their stops, and unfortunately their last stop of this particular trip. From there it was non-stop fast ride to Baptist Memorial Desoto.

I am now multi-tasking like nobody's business. Packing, checking in with my Mom, calling family, listing for flights, all while trying to remain calm.

After a heart catheterization it is determined that my Dad has multiple blockages and surgery is needed and will be performed early the next morning. My flight will arrive in Memphis (the hospital is just 10 minutes away) around 6:30pm and I am relieved that I will get to see him before surgery. I am feeling pretty calm and able to talk about the situation almost as if it is about someone else, not MY Dad, I am just relaying the story. I get to the airport and rush to the gate. As if my tear ducts are connected to my voice, as soon as I start explaining my situation to the gate agent the flood gates open. I got first class so I may try this again soon.

I arrive in MEM, get my rental car and off I go! I have the directions printed from map quest and I am confident. Well, that didn't last long, soon I am driving in circles and completely panicking. I stop at a little strip mall and grab the first person I see, who is the little old lady who works and probably owns the Vietnamese restaurant as she speaks little English. If it wasn't so serious, it would have been funny. I go into the restaurant and head for the English speaking patrons. I just barge right into their dinner, open flood gates and all and ask them if they can give me directions. This is a table of angels. They try to calm the crazy lady that is crying and has just interrupted their dinner. Buffy, the take charge one, comes over taps my hand tells me it will be alright and starts writing down the directions exactly how I need them. rights and lefts and street names, no east or west, that doesn't help a directionally challenged person such as myself. She gives me her phone number and her Dad's phone number in case I get lost again. They know the area like the back of their hand and will get me to the hospital! Angels I tell you.

I get to the hospital and rush to the 4th floor ICU unit. More flood gates open as soon as I see them. Surgery will be in the morning at 6:30am.

Surgery Day: We arrive and have plenty of time to visit before he is taken into surgery. Every other moment feels like something out of "Terms of Endearment" my Dad tells me to take care of my Mom, of course I tell him I will. You don't want any regrets so you say what you know you need to say and hope that you get to say it again and again and again. The nurse in surgery will be giving us updates every hour during the surgery and then we will get to talk to the Dr.
First call: surgery underway, everything going fine. I text about 20 people the news.
Second call: on the bypass machine (which I know means they have stopped his heart) I feel like mine has stopped too. More texting.
Third call: finishing up, so far so good.
Fourth call: off the bypass machine, next call will be from Dr. Wolf. Text, text, text. That mini keyboard is getting a workout!
Fifth call: everything went well, it is confirmed that he had a pretty strong heart attack and his heart muscle was very weak. They did 4 bypasses, clogged 90%, see you in recovery. Thank God! Text more people.

We get to see him for about a minute, and are told that we can come back in about 2 hours. We come back, still not awake, still intubated. 4 hours after surgery, same thing. hmmm back to worrying. The staff tells us that some folks take a little longer to wake up. I figure since he has a machine breathing for him, he is going to take every advantage to sleep soundly without worry of running out of breath. Probably the first time in years. He really doesn't wake up fully until the next day. He does respond to our voices and squeezes Mom's hand when she asks. That is a good sign. We head to the hotel feeling relieved that the surgery is over, but still worried.

The next few days are all similar in that we get up, eat breakfast, go to the hospital, watch, hope, pray, talk a little, worry a lot, get lunch, back to the room, get dinner, back to the room. Say goodnight, get up and do it all again the next day.
Baby steps, that is what I tell my Dad. He is doing so good and each day he gets a little better. Some days feel like one step forward two steps back, but he rebounds and we are back on track! I have got to say that if you ever put it on your calendar to have a heart attack and require surgery, get on a plane and fly to Baptist Memorial Desoto! I cannot say enough good things about everyone there. They were all friendly and kind and helpful even when I started asking questions, and asking for a nurse every two seconds. They treated us like family and since it was just me and my Mom, we needed that! My brother Danny did fly in and stayed a couple days, and then drove their car back to MN which was super helpful.

The nurses on the 4th floor were amazing and Dr. Wolf saved my Dad's life~what else is there to say about that?


Things continue to improve and we are now pondering what to do? Fly home? Drive home? We could fly, I can fly on Delta for free because of my awesome husbands job that takes him away from me way too much, and my parents can fly free on Delta because of my brother who is an aircraft mechanic in Atlanta. What seems to be the difficult thing is to find an airline approved oxygen tank. (which you are not allowed to call a tank). So after much stress and discussion, and finally some clarity from Mark (he is my sane voice) we decide to drive. It will be a long drive, but I tell my parents it will be less stress in the long run.

I trade in my shitbird rental car for a really awesome Dodge Grand Caravan, the rear seats recline and this is a must for a 15 hour car ride with super special cargo riding in the back! The discharge from the hospital could be an entire blog by itself, so let's just say it took all damn day and leave it at that. We departed the hospital at around 7pm on Thursday and nothing was stopping me. I packed up the 6 oxygen tanks that we needed to get home, all the supplies, Babe the bear, red bull, gummy bears, and a crap load of other "stuff". My parents have never really traveled "Parker style"...they were in for a treat!Before the year is over I will own a Garmin GPS. Did you hear that Mark? Birthday is in September, hint hint.

We drove on for about 4 hours, stopped for a few hours, and I mean just a few and by 6am on Friday we were back on the road. At this point I am thinking the task ahead is pretty grand and I hope I can do it. But before you know it, it is 11am, we stop for lunch, then it is 2 and my new BF Garmin tells me that our arrival time in MN is around 5:30pm. We got this! The skies were blue all day and the traffic light, which is pretty amazing for a Friday and Memorial Weekend no less. Someone was watching over us and lifting the load just a bit. Very much appreciated!

My emotions as we travel down Highway 65 to my old stomping grounds are high. The tears just come too easy, so I try to think of anything but the last 2 weeks. Doesn't really work. We pull into the driveway, my sister Lynn was there to greet us. I was anticipating this tearful reunion and we would all cry and she would be so excited to see Dad and we open the doors and...........ATTACK, we are seriously attacked by mosquito's. I am not even kidding. My Dad hates bugs and this is torture. There is no hugging, no tears, only cussing and swatting! Almost funny. But I was really thinking, you couldn't pay me to live here! haha We have mosquito's here in Florida, but these things were fierce! Ridiculous!

Once inside the reunion was able to take place. I find myself having trouble controlling my emotions. I try to talk, and I cry. I am a blubbering idiot! My phone keeps ringing and I have to ignore all calls because I can't talk.

My flight is in the morning and so I have to say goodbye before going to bed. All I have to do is sit next to my Dad and BAM, flood gates open. Sheesh, this is getting kind of old. So I do my best to get out what I need to say, Dad I am proud of you, Dad I love you, Dad you will be fine. Mom is next, more tears. Apparently tears are not like windshield wiper fluid, as you don't ever run out!

I sneak out the next morning at 4:30am and head to the airport. It has been 13 days since I have seen Mark. He is back at work and so I won't see him when I get home, that reunion will be Monday, more tears I am sure.
I get to the airport and have such mixed emotions, I am so ready to be home, but yet want to be there with my parents and help them get through the next few weeks. While waiting for my flight I get a call from my Mom, more crying, now I am just crying in public at the airport. What has happened here? It's good news, he had a good nights sleep, things are fine. No matter, I still cry. Mark calls, tears still fall. I try to tough it out and say out loud, "get it together girl"!

On the airplane (First Class, woohoo) I start thinking about my Dad, oh here they come, more tears. Come on!! I mean really! Once outside in the Florida sunshine I start to feel better, haven't cried in about 5 minutes. Excited to see my two dogs, glad to be "home". I test the waters by calling a friend from the car, pretty successful, only watery eyes, not a full on cry. Things are looking up. I call my Mom, the real test. Dad has had a good day, medicines taken care of, mosquito's aren't so bad, I get through the call without crying! Success!

In conclusion, and I know I need to wrap it up here, this is way toooo long! I have learned that when faced with an emergency, you can do the things that you need to do. You know, you always wonder if when your parents get older and get sick, can I do it? Can I take care of them? The answer is yes, without question, without hesitation, yes. I wouldn't trade the last 13 days for anything. I have always had a close relationship with my parents, but the last couple of weeks have enabled me to bond with them on a level that I never imagined.

I have always been proud to have Earl and Audrey as my parents, I have always loved them, I have always respected them, and after this, I CHERISH them.

Until next time, Kleenex in hand, Mullet's out...

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind

I apologize for the length of this blog, there is just no shortening it!

A few months back the gym that I go to(Crossfit Sarasota, formerly known as Crossfit Port Charlotte, plug plug) decided that it would be a good idea to sign up for a Sprint Triathlon in Sarasota. I said no way no how. Then slowly I thought about it, talked with Mark about it, and decided, what the hell. So I signed up.

The Preparation:
We had one workout that included a swim, although not the 400 meters that would be in the race, a chance to practice your swim. I didn't drown, a good sign. Running is not my favorite thing, but I have run 3 miles before (thank you Hege) so I knew I could do it, even if I had to walk, and the 13 mile bike ride I figured would be a piece of cake, since I am a cyclist, and 13 miles is not that far. But let it be known that I have not ridden my bike in months!

The Morning of the Race:
I woke up at 4:40 so I could get my breakfast and coffee in before 5, race time was 7:55am and 1 hour away. As most of you reading this blog are well aware of my directional disabilities you can understand that I was more nervous about finding my way to the race than the race itself! But thanks to mapquest, I arrived, early in fact! Not having a clue as what to do I sort of roamed around, checked out the facilities, and then I hear "Transition area is closing in 30 seconds" WTF?? I don't know what to do, where to go, where to put my stuff, basically I am panicking! I find this nice woman (she saved me) she told me to run and get my things and she would help me, but hurry! Oh shit. Not the nice relaxed morning I had planned.

The Race:
Everyone was on the beach, talking amongst themselves, checking out the competition, I am super glad that someone once told me that nervousness does not show on the outside! For those of you who read this and are not familiar with triathlons, they mark you with your race number, but also they put your racing age on your right calf. So, looking around you can see who is in your age group. I am looking around and feeling like everyone in my age group is more fit than me, thankfully I say this out loud to my new gym friend Karina and she politely tells me that I am way to hard on myself and that I fit in just fine. Okay, maybe it won't be so bad. I don my purple swim cap and get ready for my start time.

The Swim:
400 meters, it looks far. The waves are crashing onto the beach. This will not be easy. Everyone around me is wearing goggles. I am the lone tool. I am the only one not wearing goggles and also the only one that has my race number neatly pinned to my top. Crap, I hate being the lone tool! I strike up a conversation with the purple cap next to me, she thinks having my number on my top will be fine, it should make it through the swim, but next time I should know that they make these belt things that you can put your number on. huh? 3-2-1 go! Everyone runs into the water, so of course I have to run into the water, monkey see, monkey do! All these fit women over 40 are doing the crawl perfectly, breathing every other stroke, and here comes tool girl! Breast stroke, back stroke, tread water, repeat. That was my swimming strategy! hahahahha But I can do this. The waves are huge today and you take three strokes forward and get pushed back four! Not even to the first buoy, man this is hard. People are kicking me, I am kicking people, purple caps everywhere! Around the first buoy and the swimming gets a little easier, I pass a few pink caps (aka women younger than 40) I find that I can go faster doing the back stroke, so I stay with that for a while. I hear a woman in distress to my right, ask her if she is okay and she replies, "no" so I call over the surfboard saver girl, reality sets in. Relax. Breath. Around the second buoy, and it gets much easier when the waves are coming from behind, a swimming tailwind! I keep checking to see if I can touch, no. Crap. Pretty soon I can touch and I walk a little and swim a little until I get close to the beach. I take off my silly purple cap (vanity is always just under the surface) and run through the flour like sand and crowd who is cheering! Swim: done!

The Bike:
I get to the transition, get my shoes, get my bike, my helmet and head out. I keep Mark's advise close to mind the whole time, don't go out too hard. I go for quite a while with no one passing me and me passing no one. Which I figure is good. Then I pass a few, a few pass me, and I am always looking at their right calf and checking their age. I am only concerned with 45-49. That is all. Although it does sting a little when someone over 49 passes you. I just ride along and with no idea how fast I am going or how far. I just keep pedaling at a good pace, not to hard, because I need to save some for the run. But I feel good. I stay hydrated, and keep my eyes on the finish.
Bike: done!

The Run:
I get off my bike, switch my shoes, grab a water on the way out and...oh hell no. I cannot do this. My legs are toast. I haven't even run 1/2 mile and I am already mentally giving up. Regroup, refocus. I just keep going, one foot in front of the other. People are passing me pretty regularly now, I check the calf, 26, 40, 35, 71, WHAT? 71? I am not lying, a woman ran by me, and she did the same race as I did, 71 years old, and she passed me!! I could not help but cheer her on as she went by me. What an inspiration. I chatted with a guy with orange shoes, I am getting me some orange shoes, I think they make you faster! I try thinking about scrapbooking, no good, doesn't work. I glance down for some reason and I see wrinkles above my knees on every step. HUH? I don't have wrinkly knees! I look again as maybe this is some sort of mirage, nope still there. So now I am only thinking of my wrinkly knees and wondering when this happened. Oh, it must be from the salt water, yeah that has got to be it. Whew, glad I explained that one away. I am not ready for wrinkly knees. Back to running. At this point I tell myself I am not walking. Do not walk Shari. So now that is my goal, run the whole 5K wrinkly knees and all. I feel like we are getting closer and sure enough we enter the woods which means we are close! Signs everywhere indicating we are almost to the finish, volunteers saying just around the corner, but dang corner after corner and I am still not finished, I want to walk, DON'T DO IT SHARI, DON'T WALK! Oh fine, I run until I hear the roar of the crowd and see the finish line! YEAH, I am done! I find the keeper of the phone,keys,camera and call Mark to tell him of my awesomeness!! I am proud of my time and so is he. That is all I need.



Until next time, Mullet's out..............

me and Karina after the race!