Oldest brought me the phone around 1:30 AM this morning, not long after I'd gone to bed. When I realized it was a call from my mother, I knew something must be very wrong, and thought for sure it must be to do with grandma. Mom shocked me with the news Dad had been rushed to the ER, and they were trying to "stop the bleeding".
No one knew what the hell was going on, and as you can imagine, that put me from groggy WTF square into panic mode lickety split. I climbed out of bed and told her I'd be at the hospital in a few minutes - twenty at the most, since we don't live that far away. I hung up and was already pulling on my jeans until hubby got up and insisted he'd go instead of me. After some quick wrangling, it was agreed, and hubby took the first shift. I stayed with the kids until Mini woke up, and Oldest was off to school. Needless to say, I did not rest at all.
I spent the day at the hospital with mom waiting for a doctor who didn't show up until I left. A string of mom and dad's friends dropped in, a minister, and a bunch of people I didn't know at all. Some of them I wanted to shoo out the door with a stick. While keeping track of dad's monitors and catheter bag, I could see evidence of just how effing understaffed the local hospital is, and I am sure the nurses were quite ready to see me go by the end of the day. Then again, I have never seen my dad look so tired and gray, and if there is anything to make you as a person feel very frightened and fragile - watch your dad cry in pain and be helpless to do anything about it. That about sums up my day.
The doctor didn't arrive to look in on my dad until around 4:30-5 pm. I'd already left to take care of my mom's errands, a few little things like pick up the mail, turn on her porch light, close the gate, let the dog out, and get her laundry in the dryer, etc. And when I left the doctor hadn't showed. Mom called me on my way home, and told me the doctor had come in with Dad's test(s) results the simple diagnosis is he's very sick thanks to diabetes. My parents were in absolutely shock, and as selfish as it sounds, I'm glad I didn't have to see my dad's face when the doctor told him. I don't think I could've made it through that.
I've suspected for many years running about dad being diabetic - he's shown a lot of symptoms like mine. But he's an impossible man to get to the doctor, and there's really no fighting that. This time though, they're not letting him go home until he gets the hang of his insulin, and they "educate him on diabetes". Teach him what he can and can't eat, etc. On Wednesday, he has to go to a specialist who will check for signs of cancer - as indicated by the massive internal bleeding. The entire mess is so surreal...almost seems like I should be writing this about someone else!
Mom is very frightened. She doesn't know how to cook for dad, and I've tried to calm her fears since a lot to do with diabetic cooking is substitution. I'm going to go through her cabinets with her and mark all the "no-go" food, and make copies of all my diabetic recipes for her.
Everything is so up in the air right now, I've accepted I may have to skip the conference this week, but hubby says to hang on because that's not a certainty yet. However, if I do, I won't even blink. Family comes first, and mom can't do all this shit by herself. I told hubby if all seems like it's going to fall through, I'll drive to Shreveport Friday morning and pass off my promo haul to one of the other NOLA Stars and cancel my pitch appointments. We will see.
That's been my day. I'm relieved to know what's wrong, but there's more ahead I'm not yet ready to think about. I guess you could call this hitting a rough patch. Supposedly it comes in threes, but I'm thinking 2 is definitely enough. For now I'm going to fix another cuppa tea and hit the couch for BSG marathon until I fall asleep. Nite, nite all.