The day started out pretty well. I'm currently staying at my folks' house because it's pretty impossible to live in your own house while renovating it. (Especially the kitchen and bathroom, which are my current focus!)

We had a nice skype chat with my son in the US and everything was cool. Mum went off to play "carpet bowls" which dad opted out of, because he was feeling "a bit tired." I then went to lay down and take pressure off of my back, which is so fucked ATM that my legs feel like they're on fire.

Nothing was amiss. It was all a fairly easy-going morning.


Less than 5 minutes later, I hear an odd sound followed by a sickening gurgling.

I rushed back out to find my dad on the floor in the corner of his office, fully convulsing and spasming, foaming at the mouth, his face red and contorted as he thrashes about, a wound on his head where he'd struck it against a filing cabinet on the way down.

Quickly realising I'd completely forgotten everything I'd ever learned about first aid, I rolled him into the recovery position and pried his clenched teeth apart to clear his airways out so that he could breathe. With all cordless phones having run and hidden with all of the pens and left socks, I then grabbed my mobile and dialed 000 and was reassured by a brilliant emergency operator as I tried desperately to look after him while an ambulance arrived.


The grunting, gasping, gurgling and distortions on his face... I really thought he was having a stroke and was dying. His dad was only 5 years older than my dad is now, when he had a fatal stroke. (My first time seeing a dead body, actually, as I was the only one in the room when he passed on, and I had to let the nurses know he was dead).

At that moment, he looked so much like his own dad did. And I was helpless to do anything more than what I had done.


The ambulance arrived, the paramedics worked and stabilised him (and he incoherently fought against their oxygen mask the whole time, lol) and then I had to help them carry the stretcher to the gurney that was outside, due to the stupid hallways, etc. Despite the fact that I could hardly walk beforehand, Mr Adrenaline was there to give me the strength I needed to do so - though now I'm not able to walk without a stick again.

It was a good half hour before he was able to speak incoherently, and it wasn't until he was in hospital that he really "came out of it," having no memory of it whatsoever.

As usual, I had to be the emotional rock, too. Whenever there is a trauma of this magnitude, I provide my family the strength they need. I had to go have my breakdown in private later.

(Every time I close my eyes, I can see his face distorted in pain and seizure. Thank fuck he has no memory of it!)


So a pretty normal day turned pretty-near-devastating in less than 10 minutes, with no actual warning of what laid ahead.

According to the paramedics, I saved his life. Rather than be a comfort or something I'm proud of, this fucking terrifies me! It was such a fluke that I heard him - it so easily could have ended differently.


Go give your loved ones a big hug. If you can, go hug your parents and tell them that you love them. It doesn't matter what sort of spats or complaints you might have - it can all be gone without warning.


TL;DR - My dad nearly died today without warning. I probably saved his life. Don't waste time telling your loved ones that you love them, because in 10 minutes, you might never get the chance again.