So, I woke up this morning to my parents talking about my dad needing to go to the hospital later in the day. It was nothing big and scary yet, but we knew if he didn’t get it taken care of, it could get serious. But, of course, he works a half a day first.
On a completely unrelated note, I got this new nail polish that looks like it should be worn with a side ponytail, a swatch, and t-shirt ring.
Yesterday, I was still pretty plague-y. Today, I was still feeling pretty bad, but my dad was planning on going to the hospital. It was just for extreme water retention and Mom was driving him instead of the ambulance. I was pretty keyed up.
I spent earlier today trying to project calm. I was also trying to read what my instincts were telling me. I have a tendency to be very positive. My family is fairly half empty, and I’m more ‘it’s half full, plenty of room for booze now!’ kinda person. Everything told me he would be fine: we just needed to get this taken care of. Deep down, though, there is the part of me who felt him dying under her hands, who remembers the night a few months later that neglect from a nurse and an overdose of blood thinners nearly ended him. That part of me has nightmares that shake me to my core.
My mom took my dad to the hospital. I stayed home, took a shower, sent my boyfriend a few texts, and tried to pretend everything was fine. It worked for an hour. I took my plague-y self to the hospital. It was my dad, damnit.
The emergency room was insane. Doctors and nurses were yelling at each other. One patient left against medical advice and was very loud about it. We sat in our room and made jokes and waited. Luckily, we got the one good nurse. Finally, after several hours the doctor came in and told us they were going to shoot him up with medicine to make him pee, and if it worked he got to go home.
A knot inside of me released. If he could start pulling those fluids off his body he could go home.
After the nurse loaded him up, Mom got a very serious look on her face and started reading my dad the riot act. My mom does both guilt trips and ass chewing well. Most of my high school friends loved and sorta feared her. She was kind, but if you miss stepped, she let you know.
Well, this particular riot act was very serious. She was very forcefully telling him exactly how things were going to go down. We all sat in the appropriate silence (like sitting still so the t-rex can’t see you, another move learned in childhood) until she said, “You’ve peed before, and you can pee again.”
I couldn’t help it. I started to howl with laughter. With that one unintentionally funny sentence, the fear and anxiety bled out of the room.
He’s home now, and I’ve taken enough flu medicine to make me loopy as hell.
I’ve decided I like being ‘the glass is half full so you can put some booze in it’ sort of person.
Geeks a Geeking