Text Messages and Worry

I had slept like crap last night. After a crazy full weekend,  Sunday night I had received a text message that we all dread on some level:

“FYI: Dad’s in the hospital – Mom has the info. Thought you should know.”

Fuck.  And – at least they let me know.

Calls to all of the cell phones got me nowhere, so I sent my mom a text asking she call me as soon as she can.  She called me about 30 minutes later.

Dad has been experiencing shortness of breath – hasn’t been feeling right – and finally agreed to go to the hospital.  He was there for the night…..in the ICU.  Tests would happen in the morning after they transport him to the nearby bigger hospital, but nothing is known now.  They were giving his IV drugs, had him on oxygen, and were monitoring him.  They don’t think it was a heart attack, but they don’t know.  More will be known after they do the tests.

Meanwhile, Mom was running home for food and to make calls cancelling their Monday appointments as they were supposed to come to the city for her doctor checkup.  That was now not happening.  She said she would call if anything changed – stay close to the phone tomorrow – and hung up.

Dad called me about 15 minutes later.  He sounded like hell.  I told him to get some sleep and that I loved him.  What more can you say really?

So last night I “slept”.  I put that in air quotes because I know my eyes were closed but my mind was going through scenarios while another part of my brain was screaming, “stop thinking about that shit – that is NOT to be manifested!”  I woke up early and tired and headed to work.

Last week, I had said we could do interviews for a candidate for analyst on Monday (today).  All day is open, or so I thought.  I literally walked into a meeting at 8am – and exited a meeting at 5pm.  I was booked so solid that I missed lunch.  I was thankful for the 200 calorie protein bar that I, with apologies, ate while interviewing the second candidate.

And as that crazy day went on, I kept checking my phone over and over again.  I would get little updates here and there.  Thank goodness for text messaging as it was filled with short updates.  They only were able to get one test done today, so they let my dad eat and told him he got another night in the ICU.

“His tests are looking good” is what they keep saying – but yet, the location of his room – in the ICU – sends a different message to me.  I hope they find an answer tomorrow because with an answer may come a solution.  The only saving grace this time around is that I can get there if needed.  And given how my brothers are reacting – by meeting at a bar instead of seeing Dad – I may need to be there.

Meanwhile, I cannot help but think of the fact I have his genetics.  I cannot help but have flashbacks to him going through things like this with his mother AND his brother.  I cannot help but look at what I should be doing and am not doing and think, “Why the fuck am I not eating better? And exercising? And not skipping that beer after work sometimes? Why is it taking THIS to get my attention?  THESE are my genes!”  If he isn’t paying attention to himself, I need to pay attention to myself.

And honestly, with each time my phone got a text from someone today, those thoughts were going through my mind.  Those thoughts and a quick word to whichever deities are listening that the message I would see was not be a bad one.

Here’s hoping tomorrow, we get an answer.

What do you think?

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