All week long the news has just been getting worse.
My father-in-law has an abscess in his aorta, and the doctors say that his aorta and his year-old valve replacement must be replaced. He is not in strong condition like he was last year when he had the valve replacement. Fortunately he has just been moved to a better hospital.
Little Brother doesn’t get why everyone else is on edge, poor guy.
TheDad is staying near the hospital (better than 1 1/2 hours away)–he was here last night for the first time since Monday. He has asked me to be ready to bring the kids up there and be prepared to stay. So I am using up leftovers for dinner, even though I am not hungry to eat it–I have to eat if I might have to drive tonight. And I am thinking about what needs to be packed, like the cell-phone charger and TheDad’s favorite coffee, because he will be wanting that creature comfort. I also need to dig out my map of the area where the hospital is, because for the past two days I have been making wrong turns on familiar territory. (I guess that is where my anxieties are coming out. I don’t cry much, so people think I am strong. News flash: that’s not always how it works. I just hide it better.)
Otherwise, I wait, and I dread phone calls.