"His heart is strong, it is not broken."

11:27 AM

My phone rang at 9pm last night and as I looked to see who it was I knew something was wrong, because it was my dad, and I just talked to him on Sunday.  We normally speak about once a week, unless something is wrong.

My fears were true.

Something was wrong.  Nong, my dad's wife, was calling.  My dad was admitted to the hospital in Vietnam, something was wrong with his heart and without surgery in 24 hours, he would die.

NO!  I screamed inside.  NO!  I felt heavy.  Numb.  I stood in one place, gripping the kitchen counter, not knowing what to say.  Chris and Stephanie (who was over because we had just returned from a walk) just stared at me, waiting to know what happened, shocked. 

Nong went on to say that my dad was airlifted by his company to Bangkok, to a much more sophiscated hospital, where they said that he had a heart attack and that they didn't know much right now.  But, "Don't worry,"  Nong said, "He's going to okay.  Don't cry."

I cried.  Gut wrenching.  I sobbed and sputtered the information that I had.  Chris and Stephanie sat with me on the floor of our bedroom, telling me to have faith, that he would pull through. 

‎'Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.' ~ Hebrews 11:1

I didn't know what to do.  I gained my composure as much as I could, I knew that I had to be strong, and I called my brother.  I told him what I knew.  He cried.  Sobbed.  He asked what we should do and I told him that I just didn't know right now.  I listened to my brother breakdown because I knew that I couldn't, I had to be strong for him.  After what seemed like an eternity, I told him that we should stay in touch through the night and have faith.  I hung up the phone.

I need a minute alone.  I got up, went to the bathroom.
My world, my dad... 
I collapsed to my knees, gripping the bathroom counter and I wailed.
Body shaking.  Toes curling.
My dad.

"Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."  ~ Kahlil Gibran

I received a call from my dad a few minutes later, he was mid-ultrasound but knew that I was out of my mind, and said quickly that they would probably have to just insert a stent.  This was good news!  I still did not have many details, but a stent we could handle.  A stent did not mean death in 24 hours.
I called my brother, who felt the same relief that I did.  Minutes later he called my dad.
Zach called me back, sobbing.  This was not good news.
A quadruple bypass.
He wanted to go to Bangkok.  Now. 
Once again, I was spinning in a whirlwind of confusion and despair. 
A flight is not only expensive, but  a long 27 hours; even if we flew out in the morning, we would not make it in time for surgery.  I expressed that I couldn't be out of touch for that long.  I needed information and I would be out of my mind with worry not having open lines of communication.  Zach was not happy about my decision, but agreed that this was probably the best course of action.
I prayed.   
I posted on Facebook and asked for prayers.  Wow, did my friends come through.  Humbling, really, to know that there is a large support system just a click away, that so many lives are touched by one simple word - pray.
I prayed more.
'God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change and though the mountains slip into the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains quake at its swelling pride. Selah. The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold. Selah.' ~ Psalm 46:1-3,7

My dad emailed us just as I was getting into bed, the operation would take place shortly, but they believed it to be for a stent.  I was washed in relief.  I cried.  Silent raindrops.  My pillow was wet.  My face swollen and lips chapped.  But, I believed that he would be okay.
A friend sent me a text and it said, "I believe that it's just not his time."
She was right. 
It's not. 
I believed that too.
I slept for a few hours at a time, about 5 hours total.  Chris woke me up when he was leaving for work to let me know that my dad had emailed about 4:40am (3:40pm BKK time) that they did not see any blockage in his arteries, he did not need a stent.  The bad news is that his heart is not beating correctly, it is beating too fast, he may need a pacemaker.
Tears came again.
Overwhleming tears of relief.
But I am still scared.
I spoke to Nong this morning, he is resting in ICU and they will not allow him to speak on a cell phone.  They hope to move him to another room and we may be able to speak to him tonight. 
"His heart is okay on the inside," Nong told me.  "His heart is strong, it is not broken."
I, however, feel somewhat broken this morning.  I'm tired.  Worried.  Fearful.  The unknown is scary.  Exhausted from the roller coaster.  Scared.  So, scared.
But I have faith that he will be okay. 
I pray. 
'Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.'- Isaiah 41:10

 ***Read an update here.***

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