Deogratias: A Not-So-Happy Veteran's Day

We spent part of Veteran's Day this year with a very special veteran. My dad, who joined the army at the age of 16 and spent his 17th year fighting in Korea, had a heart attack on Sunday and is recovering in the hospital.

It all began on Sunday morning. Lee and I awoke in Pennsylvania at 5:30 a.m. Sunday to begin our 9 hour drive south. We had picked up some of my mother's furniture and her car and had taken care of some other estate business and were going to drive home. My dad lives in Tennessee, and we were going to spend the night at his house.

Just as we approached the Tennessee border, I received a phone call from my step-mother. She said she had bad news, but prefaced it by saying that everything was ok now. My dad became ill at church and was taken to the ER where he had a heart attack. He was recovering well in ICU.

It all began during the 8 a.m. Mass. My dad stepped into the restroom for a few minutes because he had begun to feel poorly. When his friend's grandson arrived for the 10 a.m. Mass, he found my dad still in the restroom. The grandson helped my dad to a bench in the hallway. He began sweating and shaking.

In came the priest and one of my dad's doctors on their way to Mass. Both began to attend to my dad. The priest performed the sacrament of Annointing of the Sick, and I'm told that they all expected him to die right there. Fortunately someone had the presence of mind to call 911.

The next chapter occurred in the ER where my dad had a full-blown heart attack. He received CPR and electrical shock and was revived. He was taken to ICU where he stayed for about a day and a half, and then he was taken to a room on the telemetry floor. He was hoping to go home today, but due to problems with his blood pressure he will be spending at least another night.

Throughout the entire ordeal, we couldn't help thanking God for the way things turned out. My step-mother was out of town when the heart-attack occurred and learned of it on her way home Sunday morning. If my dad had felt sick before Mass, he probably would have stayed home. If all of this had occurred at home instead of at the church, he probably would have died. She would have found him dead when she arrived home that afternoon.

She had planned to go to New York with her daughters for the weekend, but that trip was cancelled at the last minute. If my dad hadn't gone to Mass, he might have had the heart-attack at home. If my step-mother had been in New York, Lee and I would have found him dead at his home.

In addition to that, his heart attack occurred in the absolute best place to have a heart attack. It was a place with the equipment and trained personnel to handle the situation.

Because it began as it did at the church, he was added to the Mass Intention and everyone at the church prayed for him. He was also able to be annointed and receive confession in the hospital. Hopefully someone will bring him communion tomorrow.

He's not out of the woods yet, however, so if you are reading this please add him to your prayer list. His name is Bill. As I left his room yesterday I told him that he couldn't die because he is the only parent I have left. Maybe that was selfish of me to say, but I'm praying that he still has plenty of living left to do.