I’m an only child, my mother is on a plane over the Atlantic, and my Dad is in the ER with a wacky EKG. He is also probably the worlds’ worst self-reporter, and gets easily overwhelmed by hospitals and medical language in general.
He’s also four hours away, and I don’t have any legal paperwork saying I can speak to his doctors. They did finally speak to me, but OI, what a run-around.
He didn’t want to be admitted, and told me that I was betraying him by thinking he should go along with their suggestion, because he felt *fine*. (He went in grudgingly with a sore shoulder, not his left. The EKG find was just part of his workup.) I tried to explain to him that yes, it probably *was* nothing, but coal miners thought the air was fine too, until they saw canaries keel over, and that is what a wacky EKG is – a keeled over canary. He didn’t like that explanation very much, since he doesn’t want to be there, but at least I think he understood it.
… and now I’ve been distracted enough that my daughter just scratched herself across the cornea with my scissors, so I’m off to the ER with *her*.
Good thing I have lots of leftover chocolate from Halloween…