Well Ma, if he's up to it, he's a better man than I am. Once was enough.
But jeff, on that note, let me mention a couple of other things. If your Dad has never been on a vent before, he will be after the surgery and it is a bit frightening. The machine is breathing for you through the tube down your throat and the initial sensation is terror because YOU can't breathe. The trick is to relax and let the vent do its job, but its not an easy thing at first and the fact that you can't breathe gives you a drowning-like sensation. The people at the hospital warned me of this before as I'm sure they will your Dad, but its real scary for a few seconds, that seem like an eternity.
Also be sure that there are no other problems that might appear later. Your Dad sounds like a simple double (simple?-50 years ago we'd all be dead from these problems), but if there is anything else, that is the time to fix it. I've just complleted some testing on a problem I'm having that could have been repaired then, but everyone felt it would take care of itself after the bypass as I had all 4 arteries completely blocked (97% or above). I am going to have to have it fixed and the new super hi-tech les invasive way cannot be used on bypass patients so I may be in for another chest cracking.......and once was OK, but twice I would prefer to leave to Ma's hubby!(:<))
But let's leave this on a funny story...........I've related this before, but a good story is still a good story.
My situation came up so fast that organizing the "home front" was a big job and Karen was going like crazy trying to be everywhere at once. Again, Connie and Wayne were there to help out. The night before, I told Karen that it wasn't important that she be there when I got out of surgery since I'd be zonked anyhow. After the operation was over she headed out to handle things that only she could do. Wayne waited in recovery and when I came out of it, he was there. Aside from being a true friend, Wayne is Physician's Assistant, previously a 25 year vet of the EMT and paramedic profession, and he is the kindest, gentlest, and most empathathetic soul I have ever known.
So I wake up and he's there holding my hand. After a bit of time I begin to focus enough to want to know if all is OK. Both of us know some sign, but you have about 27 miles of plastic tubing covering your arms and chest so it was tough. He smiles and gives me an "OK" sign and I figure I'm alright. I was concerned about Karen. I just wanted to know if she knew and if she was OK and I try to communicate this to Wayne. He responds with some odd hand gestures mixed with sign and I know he has no idea what I want so I keep trying, pointing at my wedding ring and such. He keeps responding with the gestures. Finally I make a writing motion and he gets a pad and pen. He has yet to speak a word! Empath that he is, he seems to have tuned into the fact that I can't talk so he isn't either! I write on the pad, "Where's Karen?"........and of course the dumbass takes the pad and writes out an explanation!!! I read it and then write, "YOU CAN TALK." Wayne finally realized what he was doing and just shook his head....but he did start talking! I still kid him about it at every chance I get. Try not to have quite so much empathy with your Dad.
Again, wish him my best and tell him he'll feel like a new man. He will!