Very early Monday morning Brenda's cell phone rang.
It was a call from Jennifer, our oldest daughter. She called to tell us that our land line dropped every call into voice mail even before it rang. It was pouring rain at the time--our phone never seems to work whenever it rains in East Dallas.
The issue was my dad.
He woke up around 3:00 a.m. complaining of shortness of breath. My mom wisely called 911. Our dear friends, the Englishes who live across the street from my parents, came to her rescue when she was unable to reach us. Scotty followed the ambulance to the hospital. Ethelyn kept working at it until she reached Jennifer.
Thanks to all the help, we arrived at the hospital a little after 5:00 a.m.
My dad had suffered a heart attack.
His cardiologist believes that one of his by-pass grafts from his surgery six years ago may have failed. Dad suffered no pain, just a build up of fluid in his lungs due to his heart underperforming its assigned task.
After spending a day and a night in ICU, he seems to be stable and on the mend. Hopefully, adjusted medication and some rest will serve him well.
He is 86-years-old. He has been in good health all of his life--with a few surgeries over the past several years that have successfully extended his life.
Sitting in the ICU waiting room is always an experience.
When it is because of someone you love, the experience rises to a different level.
Lots of friends dropped by.
Everyone who knew cared.
Community rising up after an episode of ill health and a future that remains uncertain.
Please join the community and pray for my dad. His name is Morris James.
March 2, 2014–Transfiguration Sunday
3 days ago