I have to tell you the beginning of the story.
Today was my appointment to see the doctor about my surgery. I got up at 6, searched frantically for my health card once I realized it wasn’t in my wallet, didn’t find it, phoned my parents’ (at 7:30, I’m not a complete jerk) to see if it had maybe fallen out of my wallet last time I was there, and it hadn’t, or at least, Mom hadn’t seen it. The next hour was spent freaking the heck out, because this was a new doctor, and they won’t see you for a first appointment without your health card. It took 5 months to get this appointment; I didn’t want to have to cancel! I talked to Mom again at about 8:30, when she called to suggest that I just go to my regular doctor and get my health card number from them. This is the reason why moms are moms – they are smart and they have answers. I meanwhile am 32 (almost 33) and am still living like a 9-year-old (well, except I’m married for reals, yo).
My appointment was only at 11, but it was an hour’s drive away, so we left the house at 9 (I know, that means we would get to the other town at 10, but we had other things to do as well, like stop at the bank and stuff before we were on our way). I stopped at my doctor’s office, we stopped to put gas in the car, and off we went. Rob drove through the relatively complicated streets of the city, and we finally made it to the doctor’s office and – amazing luck – found parking right beside the building. He put 2 hours’ worth of change in the meter because this could be a long appointment.
When we arrived at the office, I checked in with the receptionist (who at first was on the phone talking to someone named Shana, and telling her to “do what she had to do”, but then she finally got off the phone and talked to ME), and she looked around all confused for like, 10 minutes, at different books and schedules and computer programs, and then finally said “Oh, I’m sorry… we tried to call you about half an hour ago, but you must have already left. The doctor couldn’t be in today, so we’ve moved your appointment to the 26th”.
Um, okay. So we basically wasted 2 hours’ driving time in the car, round-trip, and I wasted a sick day. On nothing. So we came home.
My fury, people!
But then. At about 2:30 today my mother called to tell me that my father was in the hospital. He has had a cold the past couple of days. This morning, soon after the last time I spoke to them, he was coughing and started either vomiting blood or just coughing it up – Mom couldn’t really tell. Either way, blood coming in copious amounts out of your mouth? Not a good sign.
My father has not been enjoying the best of health these past few years, as most of you probably know. My siblings and I worry about him constantly. He hates that, and hates the fact that he’s not in the best shape, but 40 years of cigarettes (he quit around 10 years ago) plus the fact that both of his parents had heart problems have left their mark. We don’t think he should still be working – and he doesn’t really need to, he has a good pension and so does my mother – but he won’t quit. His father retired, and two years later he died. I’m sure that’s what’s foremost in his mind.
So, even though I was really upset at the time, and angry that I had wasted a sick day and I could’ve been on that field trip to the sewage treatment plant right then!!!… it was kind of a good thing that this mixup at the doctor’s office happened. If I had been at work, I wouldn’t have been home to get Mom’s call. I immediately went to the hospital (when she called, he was in the ER). At the ER, they told me that he’d been moved to Intensive Care. They wouldn’t tell me anything else. They told me that I couldn’t see him right away, because they were getting him settled. That’s when I spent my time in the hospital chapel. No one else was in there, so I had a good 45 minutes of just sitting there staring and thinking “Please.” I couldn’t think anything else. No cohesive prayers, nothing. Just “Please.”
When I was finally allowed in to see him, he was sitting up in his bed, awake and alert, and not happy to be in the hospital. He’s in the same room in the ICU that Rob was in a few years ago when he nearly died from the flu. Anyway. Dad explained to me what had happened – I wasn’t sure, so I asked if it was his lungs (earlier this year he had a pneumothorax). It wasn’t his lungs.
Because of his blood pressure and other things, he takes a blood thinning medication. He goes in once a month for a blood test, to make sure that the medication is at the proper level – it’s supposed to be between 2.5 and 3.5. The last time he was in (April 27th), it was at 3, which is a normal level. He started getting a cold this weekend, and has been coughing for the past couple of days. Something happened this morning, and the coughing caused a blood vessel to burst. He lost a lot of blood. A LOT. When they tested his blood at the ER, the level of medication in his blood was at 8. He’s receiving blood transfusions, as well as antibiotics and something else because he’s also slightly dehydrated. He was pretty tired when I was there, so I only stayed about 20 minutes. My brother was going in to see him later tonight. And he keeps saying that he’s fine, but he just looks so weak. And is still coughing up and spitting out blood. And I love him.
So, that’s what’s going on around here. I am going to go back to work tomorrow and some of those kids will be like “What? You haven’t corrected our tests yet?” and I will say “SUCK IT KIDDO”. That is my lesson plan for the day.