Seven Days

It happens in a blink. One moment you are living your life, and before you know it, something happens that completely changes it forever. During his sermon on Sunday, my pastor compared it to playing with a familiar children’s toy, the Jack-in-the-Box. You know the game. You turn the crank, enjoy the rhythm of the music, and then all of a sudden, the “Jack” pops out. It’s unexpected and sometimes shocking.

My “Jack-in-the-Box” moment occurred seven days ago. It started as a normal Wednesday. I worked from home in the morning, went into the office in the afternoon, and came home for dinner. After eating, I continued working on the slides for a presentation I was giving the following day. If I remember correctly, it was shortly after 8 pm when I received the phone call. It wasn’t your average call. It was one of those dreaded calls — the one you never want to get.

My father was being rushed to the hospital with a possible stroke. I jumped in the car and rushed to the emergency room. After various scans and tests, the doctors confirmed that it was a stroke, and my mother authorized a course of treatment. I won’t go into all of the gory details about that night. At this time, I’m too emotional to relive those frightening moments, even though they will be forever etched in my memory.

The next seven days seem to blur together — an unsavory cocktail of stress, worry, fear, unstable emotions, and sleepless nights. During that time we had many ups and downs as my father’s condition evolved. The stroke occurred in the left side of his brain affecting his speech and leaving him without the ability to control the right side of his body. He’s always been fiercely independent and strong, so it was incredibly difficult to see what the stroke had stolen from him. Fortunately, many patients recover from this type of a stroke, and we remain hopeful that he will be able to regain these functions after extensive rehab.

Until then, our lives have been interrupted by this “Jack-in-the-Box” moment. We don’t know exactly what the future holds, and that’s frightening. All we know is that it will be a long and frustrating road to recovery.

We’re just now beginning to walk down this path, and my blog posts may be less frequent as I spend as much time as possible with my family. On those days when you come here and don’t see a new blog entry, please take the time you would have spent reading my blog to instead say a short prayer for us. We need as many as we can get right now as we journey through the next seven days and beyond.