It started at the beginning of February. My dad’s vision has been progressively worse since 2015 and he’s been pushing it off due to lack of time. To get him the help he needed because he could no longer drive at night, I played a lot of telephone tag with the insurance company and the doctor’s office.
However, the first surgeon couldn’t finish his surgery. She did it halfway and then realized that it was too complicated of a case for her.
When the nurse called me to pick him up, I went to pick him up and he was waiting for me with a wrap on his eye. He looked out of it and confused. For the next few days, my dad was just waiting to get a second surgery with a more skilled surgeon. It was uncomfortable seeing my dad looking so vulnerable. His eye got infected too because of what the first surgeon did.
Thanks to the Lord, though, we were able to get the second surgery for my dad right away with a much more skilled surgeon.
My dad’s second surgery was a pretty weird experience too. The surgeon told my dad that the surgery would take about an hour at most. As the nurse guided us towards the same-day surgery room, she said that after the surgery, my dad would be taken to a recovery room for one or two hours. If the main building was closed, we could head to the emergency room.
When it was much past four hours after the start of his surgery, I called for a status update. I frowned when the operator told me, “No one is picking up their phones. All the surgery and recovery rooms are locked with the lights off. Are you sure your dad didn’t go home?”
I told her that I was the one picking up my dad. He wouldn’t just leave. I asked her to check the ER. After a hold, she said the ER did not have my father. It felt like a movie. Where else would he be but the hospital? But why would he be there this much longer? If he was still being operated on, wouldn’t they be able to find out?
I went to the hospital a big crying mess to try to get more answers. I sat in the lobby and tried not to cry while people watched me curiously. At that moment, half past 12am, I got an email and it was a Bible verse:
It turned out that my dad’s surgery was very complicated and took three hours instead of one. This was a very humbling experience. I guess sometimes I have a very active imagination and I get carried away, hahaa.
Then, at 2am at night when we were still in the hospital, there was an aggressive patient storming and yelling around the halls right outside my dad’s recovery room so we had to barricade the door with the nurse.
It was a strange night, but I’m just glad my father is recovering. He’s been healing and getting better, and I’m so grateful for that.
(My uncle is also getting surgery so please pray for him!)