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These are the first two pages from my dad's recent emergency open-heart surgery. He was having trouble breathing and after 3 months of constant nagging, he agreed to go to the hospital. The urgent care doctor told us he had an enlarged heart and referred us to a cardiologist. Three months later we finally got an appointment and he was referred for an angiogram, where after draining 17 lbs. of fluid from his chest and lungs we found out that he desperately needed an aortic valve replacement and triple bypass. At 81 years old, my father is a walking miracle. Although this was the most terrifying experience of my life, it was the closest I have ever been to Him and to my Maker.

Sorry for the rambling. The journaling reads, "And They Call It 'Punky' Love" - Once we found out my dad was being admitted to the hospital, we stopped by the store on the way home to pick up a few things for him. As we were walking to the checkstand we saw a display of stuffed animals and I picked out a black and white dog for my dad.

The next day we gave it to him, and told him he had to name it. He named him Punky. I told him to keep Punky nearby and to hold him when he got nervous. A few days later I heard my dad telling his roommate that it was his first stuffed animal. My dad kept Punky by his side, until his surgery, but no dogs are allowed in ICU. Punky sat in the waiting room with us until my dad was released to the 6th floor. Everyone in the ICU waiting room got to know and love Punky, and there was even an attempted dognapping.


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