Super Heroes Continued...

We finally got up into the air. What was only supposed to be about a forty minute flight turned in an hour-long flight. The airport in Denver is a hub; therefore, it is one of the busiest in Midwest. It was so busy at the airport, our plane could not land, and we had to do circles in the sky for fifteen to twenty minutes. As if we weren’t anxious enough to get to the hospital, both my mother and I had to use the restroom but the fasten seatbelt sign was on. After circling in the sky a few times we finally said “Screw it!” and we unfastened our seatbelts.

Once we landed, it did not feel as though we were any closer to reaching my dad. Due to the cost of cabs, it was recommended that we use a shuttle. Once we found a shuttle to take us to the Swedish Hospital, we had to wait before leaving the airport because the shuttle would not leave until it had enough passengers. When we finally had enough passengers it seemed as though the driver took the longest possible way to the hospital. Before we could even be dropped off, we had to drop the other passenger off at another hospital.

When we finally arrived at the hospital, we had to be dropped off at the emergency room entrance because it was after hours. When we walked in we had to go through a security check with a police officer. Just another delay setting us back. The officer opened the electronic doors, and we made our way back to the Critical Care Unit. The C.C.U. contained four halls which were lettered A through D. Each hallway contained five to ten rooms. The doors were sliding glass like the ones commonly seen on patio doors.

We made our way to the nurses’ station. My mom began to tremble. A nurse greeted us. She could tell by our luggage that we were the family from Salt Lake City. She told us that before we go that she wanted to let us know that he does not look the same. The hospital preformed an experimental procedure on my dad involving lasers on his head. To do the procedure, they had to shave it. My mom began to cry, and I became scared. What was he going to look like? Was I going to recognize him? My dad has had the same hairstyle my entire life. Every month he would dye it a medium brown color leaving gray only at the sides above his ears. I had never seen my dad’s scalp except for a tiny spot on the back of his head that was thinning.

Before we walked into the room, the nurse explained to us that he had a clot go up into his brain on the right side. As a result of the clot, he was paralyzed on the whole left side. The nurse continued on to say that he could communicate; he was just a little disoriented. If he wakes up, the nurse explained that we needed to stay on his left side because he is paralyzed on that side, he would need to compensate for the damage and try to get that side working again.

We walked into the room and found my dad sound asleep. To our surprise my dad looked good with his new shaven head. In fact, he looked younger. Looking better than we thought was reassuring. Lying on the bed he looked helpless. An image I have never seen. He woke up when he heard us walk in. My mom walked up to his bedside to see how he was doing.