“Hi John”

I received the WhatsApp notification on Monday from my dad. He never calls me John, so something was off already. I thought maybe somebody stole his phone, so I called. My mom picked up. She had texted me from his phone, he was at the hospital, waiting for the surgeon to come to fix his stent that was placed in him 10 or more years ago.

She said he was playing golf on Sunday, after the game he wasn’t feeling good. She and his friend took him to the hospital that evening. She didn’t sound worried, she was at home watching the news. She also didn’t sound like herself, maybe she was tired or perhaps she had worried herself to a tizzy earlier.

It was late Monday her time, she was tired and told me she would take his phone back to the hospital on Tuesday.

After hanging up she sent a few more WhatsApp messages, from his phone, telling me not to worry.

The next day she called (or maybe I did, my memory is now a little fuzzy) from his phone. This kept bothering me that she was communicating from his phone, something seemed more serious. She still didn’t share more details but surgery was going to happen soon.

She texted (again from his phone) and said surgery was done and it went well. I was still worried, it wasn’t clear to me how she was so calm (my mother loses her mind when my dad gets a simple flu). I later found out she had taken her anti anxiety/panic medication.

Once he was awake post-surgery I was finally able to talk to him.

It wasn’t just a simple problem with his stent. The stent had somehow gotten loose and punctured the wall of the aneurysm on his aorta while he was playing gold on Sunday. He was bleeding out.

After he was done playing he felt some pain pangs in his abdomen. He sat down to grab lunch. He drank a little bit of whiskey, the pain got worse. As the pain continued he felt weak, tired. He decided to leave for home and somehow drove himself back.

At home he told my mom he wasn’t feeling good. Sat in his chair to watch TV. Things started getting worse. he said he felt the worst chills he had ever experienced in his life. At that point, maybe 7 hours later, he decided to go to the hospital.

When they scanned him they found the issue with the stent. How did he not bleed out?

A small clot made it’s way through in the space between the aneurysm bubble and the loose stent and plugged the hole that had caused his internal bleeding.

This man should have been dead.

His vascular surgeon told him this was a 1 in millions odds of surviving. A puncture like that would have escalated quickly and he would have only had minutes. The surgeon had put in a new stent, as reinforcement to the original stent.

Dad is home now after a few days recovering at the hospital post surgery. He had lost almost 1 liter of blood, which currently is floating around in his abdomen, waiting to be absorbed by his body. They had given him a blood transfusion so he was mostly normal.

My parents live in Brazil, I never would have made in time to see him. That gratitude I feel that he made it through this (and sheer awe by the luck of it) consumes me at every minute.

I’m ecstatic you’re still in this world Dad. If you hadn’t made it, you at least would have had that last sip of whiskey. Since you get to have another sip, I’ll be there soon to toast with you.

❤️