Once we got word that Nolan’s surgery went well, all we had to do was wait for an ok to go up and see him. It seemed to take forever, but having our friend Marc there to keep us company helped pass the time. Finally someone came to get us and brought us up to the CVICU to his room. And what I saw shocked me:
My little boy. My 4 pound baby was hooked up to so many machines. I was shocked. Completely numb. I don’t even think I said anything, I just couldn’t. In my mind I prayed and prayed, then prayed some more. Meanwhile the room was buzzing with nurses moving back and forth rapidly, giving meds, checking machines, etc. It was nuts. I couldn’t believe how swollen Nolan was…it didn’t even look like him. And (WARNING: PHOTO AHEAD), as Dr. Maxey noted, his chest was still open and I could see his little heart beating:
It was all so scary. I vaguely remember speaking to one of the nurses, but most of it was some Charlie Brown-style wah wah wah. Something about them doing an x-ray or an echocardiogram to see how his heart function is. I was just in complete shock. I mean it was kinda freaky seeing his chest open like that…ok really freaky, plus I was just kind of amazed at our medical technology and skill: they could perform surgery on a heart the size of a quarter AND they have all these machines that keep him healthy through recovery. Man, I couldn’t begin to list all the meds he was in: pain stuff, sedatives, meds to help with fluids, stuff to serve as feeds, he had a chest tube that was draining lots of gunk, AND he was on a breathing machine.
Besides the shock, I felt really exhausted in that moment. It’s like so much led up to this point and when I walked into the room it was the crushing reality that so much more was ahead. We had this huge mountain to climb together, except it’s like we had to climb it in the dark, since we wouldn’t know what to expect on a day-to-day basis. I had to get used to the new reality: this room would become our second home, and we’d have to get used to the beeping and whirring of so many machines and the visible beating of our son’s heart.
People like to say that “being a man” means being tough. I promise you, Dads out there, the “tough” you’ve known your whole life is garbage when you go through this process. The moment I saw my son like this it sucked the tough outta me. I had to learn what tough really is. And how did I learn that? I looked at that 4 pound baby to lead by example. THAT’S tough.