by Kaitlyn Hamilton

Created on: July 16, 2010

We first discovered that my father was extremely ill more than fifteen years ago.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was away at college when I received an unexpected call from my mother to tell me that my father had been diagnosed with emphysema.  I was studying to be a medical doctor at the time and was all too familiar with the uncurable disease.  I felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from under me.  I knew that my father had been progressively becoming more ill for quite some time, but to actually know that he had a deadly disease was devastating. 

About six months after we learned of my father's condition, I received another shocking call.  This time it was from my youngest brother.  He informed me that my father had a major heart attack and was going to require bypass surgery, which would be done the next morning.  The hospital staff and my father's specialists all assured my family that he would have a team of the best surgeons in the country.  They also explained that my father stood less than a five percent chance of survival because of complications due to the emphysema.  Without the surgery, he wouldn't have survived more than a day or two at best.

Just before my father underwent surgery, he made me promise to take care of my mother if he didn't make it through the procedure.  I had to be strong and I promised him that I would take care of my mother, but I also told him that I was certain that I would be talking to him shortly after the surgery.  That was one of the most frightening moments of my life and I honestly don't know how I was able to keep my senses as the minutes ticked by slowly, one by one.

About thirty minutes into the surgery, a nurse came out to tell us that my father had "coded" and that the doctors were working on him, but it wasn't looking good.  She also informed us that two additional surgeons were being flown in from a neighboring state and should be arriving within the hour and that they would do their best to keep my father alive until they arrived.  When the surgeons opened my father's chest to perform the procedure, his lungs hyperexpanded, making it impossible to continue the operation until these additional surgeons could perform an experimental surgery to laser the pockets of air trapped inside his lungs.

My family and I paced for hour after terrifying hour, hoping and praying for any sign that my father would pull through.  It

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