On the 10th of March 2015 I received a phone call from my step-mother, Robyn.  In fact, back track…… I had been in a meeting and came out with numerous missed calls from both Robyn and my sister!

Robyn was calling me from the ICU at Lyell McEwin Hospital here in Adelaide – my dad had suffered a major cardiac arrest.  If ever my world was to stop and any previous experience to pail in comparison, this was one of those moments.  When I arrived at the hospital, I was confronted with umpteen tubes and wires coming from my dad’s unconscious body and was told by the doctor that the next 24 hours were too uncertain to foretell.  Boy!!  That’s a tough pill to swallow!!

My Dad had been at his usual weekly golf game and was, in fact, on the 13th tee when he collapsed.  Truth be known, and in a funny way, I actually don’t think he could have been in a better place for this to have happened.  His golfing partners that day, both with previous sporting backgrounds on one level or another, administered immediate first aid and they had made contact with the ambulance.  It took the paramedics four shocks to retrieve dad’s heartbeat.

I received the news the following morning that dad had woken up; words escape me but I’m sure it doesn’t require too much explanation of what that felt like to hear.

This photographic essay is a condensed documentation of dad’s recovery in hospital and return home.  For quite some time, dad was completely adamant that this had not happened to him and he still does not, nor will he ever have any true or real recollection.  For Father’s Day 2015, I gave dad a printed photo album of his story.  He tells me now that he picks up the album from time to time which for him, now serves as a realisation of not only what was, but perhaps what could have been.

Dad was one of the lucky ones.

(Click individual image to enlarge)

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