About This Blog:

On my main blog I try use humor with the goal of depicting my thoughts in a way that will entertain the reader. On this blog I write my thoughts without any goal in mind.

I would suggest not reading further.


Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Part II, The Aftermath

I posted the story about my dad nearly drowning and this is the rest of the story.

Part II:

One regret I have is not notifying the people in the boat when I got his head above the water and knew he was alive. While struggling to get his suit off I yelled to the boat for a knife. Later Shelley jumped into the water carrying a screwdriver and whatever else she dug up on the boat that she thought might help. When I saw the frightened look on her face I realized that she didn’t know that we had made it. Paul and I were still struggling to get my dad off the motor so I didn’t think to tell the boat that we knew he was alive. It was pretty traumatic for everyone involved.

Dad came out of the boat with some minor bleeding, but it turned out he was in worse shape than I initially thought. His body went into shock, and he was cut up in areas we don’t like to talk about. Also, his legs were more bruised than anything I had ever seen. Dave, Mom and I took him to the hospital.

The nurse asked me some questions about what had happened. She asked me how long he was under, and I replied, “Well, he didn’t die.” I don’t think I was ready to talk about it until I knew my dad was hooked up to an IV and being treated. I later estimated it at 90 seconds, but after discussing it with Paul we think it may have been closer to 60. Either way he was under quite a while.

Dad still didn’t look good that evening, and it wasn’t until I saw him the next day that he looked okay again. He ended up with 40 stitches, and it took him several weeks to recover.

That night I replayed the situation in my mind. I replayed how close it was, and how little I was able to do. Dad may have died had I not been in the water. So maybe I should consider myself a hero, but it didn’t feel like that. I felt helpless. With everyone else in bed I walked to the bathroom crying and I looked at my face in the mirror. I saw a face of complete terror that I’ve never seen on me before or since. I was shaking and crying. The next day I was better. I’ve been fine since. I was not traumatized by the event, nor was my dad. I just know he felt bad to have to put people through that situation. I know it was tough on my uncle as he feels it is his responsibility to run the operation at his place.

I know no one lives forever, but I’m glad we still have Dad for some more years. It is important for my family to still have him around.

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