So I have two stories I want to share with you, I'll post the first now and the second sometime later this week.
A couple years ago, I was sitting in my room and heard the phone ring. I ran downstairs to check who it was, the caller ID flashed a number I didn't recognize and ignored it. A few minutes later the phone rang again, same number and being any normal teenager, I kept ignoring it, thinking it was some crazy tele-marketer. After about the fifth time I answered it "Hello?!" I was surprised to hear my dad on the other end "Hayl's, it's dad, I'm at the hospital, I'm ok but there was an accident, I'm at mount carmel, tell your mom to call as soon as she gets home" Of course being the daddy's girl that I am, I immediately started crying. My brother heard me and came down the stairs, I told him and he started to cry as well. My mom finally came home and she rushed to get a hold of my dad. She talked to him and we learned what happened "Your fathers foot has been crushed, they are worried they may have to amputate it" Jordan and I stood their stunned. Anyone who knows my dad knows how active he is, how hard he works, how much he loves to fish, hunt and every other outside activity you could think of. We had to wait for my uncle to take us to the hospital since none of us knew how to drive my fathers stick-shift truck. When we finally made it, I was terrified. I was so scared that my dad was going to lose his foot, but when I saw him lying in the hospital bed the first thing he did was smile at me. I couldn't believe how much of a positive attitude he had, even when the word "amputation" was hanging around so closely.
The doctor came in and began to explain to us that the next 24hrs were critical and if infection began to spread then they would have to take the foot, the problem was that the bones hadn't just been broken, they had been crushed, they would have to place metal rods in to replace bone. That even if he kept his foot (which wasn't looking good) that he would have to go through months of rehab to be able to walk, that if he was able to walk that he would have a major limp, that he would need a cane to walk and that running or any extreme sport would be out of the question.
My dad simply said "No"
"I will not lose my foot"
"I will not walk with a limp"
"I will not walk with a cane"
"I will run"
Well, let me tell you, not only did my dad accomplish all of those things, but after months of being stuck in our living room (which was sort of entertaining because the contraptions my dad came up with, one of them being a legit blow dart gun, were awesome lol) but since then, he has run miles and miles and miles and miles.
Never underestimate the power of determination and having a positive attitude. My dad could have wallowed in self pity, could have simply accepted what the doctors told him and given up all hope but he didn't. He refused to give up without a fight. I'll always be proud of the man he is and many times when I have been training I've thought to myself "Come on, dad runs ten miles a day, and he only has one normal foot!" You see, feet are kind of important when you do running.
My father and I running together.
I love you daddy.
