I was sitting at work for what felt like forever waiting to hear back from her. Sitting at work wondering why it had been almost an hour and no call back. The not knowing is worse than anything I have ever experienced. You see, even though this is not my birth father, he is my dad. He was there for me for as long as I can remember being stern, setting limits, and giving hugs when I needed them. He is why I am where I am today, moreso than anyone else on the planet.
My mind raced to a million different places in the next few minutes after that phone call. I immediately prayed that he was okay not only for his sake, but for my mom's. My mom does not do well alone. My mom has never been single longer than a year or so in her adult life. Even if they said the heart attack wasn't severe and he'd be fine, I'd need to leave and be there for her. As I stated in a previous entry I am more the mother to my mom, than she is to me. I want to be there for her to lean on. Even though there were so many times when she wasn't that person for me, it is really important that I be that person for her.
I was at the hospital yesterday from 9 am until 8 pm. When I left they were thinking perhaps he had acute pancreatitis. A heart attack had been ruled out by about 11, then it became some maddening guessing game for hours on end. Like an episode of House, only without the scruffy attractive smartass guy with a limp. I ran home around 1 pm to pack a bag so I could stay with my mom and she wouldn't have to come home to an empty house. I checked on the kitty cats and made sure the bird had fresh water. I looked up to the sky and thanked whatever powers that be, that I am present and able to do this, whereas not too long ago I would've had to go and get drunk or high to deal. It doesn't have to be all about me anymore. It's a really nice feeling.
I have had acute pancreatitis. More than likely he'll just have to be in the hospital a few days 'til his lipid levels even out, then they'll remove his gall bladder laproscopically and he'll come home, needing about a week of taking it easy. Then he'll have a mighty feisty tummy. But at least it wasn't a heart attack. At least it wasn't something far worse.
Happy picture of the day: half of the time I feel like this.