Kill The Band

Yesterday morning on the way into work I called my father to see if he might be available to grab a cup of coffee or something during my break. It took a few rings for him to answer, but only a second to tell me he wouldn't be able to make it.

      Me: "What's up, you got a busy work day ahead?"
      Him: "No, I'm at the hospital, your mother's had a heart attack."

..have you ever noticed just how many times you respond to bad news delivered over a cell phone by saying the words, "what was that? - you broke up a little there..."

Maybe this is everybody's parents, I don't know -- but with this being the second time my mother's had a heart attack and the second time I found out about it more or less by accident, I kind of laid into my dad about his skills as an information provider. I love the man, but getting really bad health news this way is starting to get old.

He says that they didn't want me (or my brother) to worry, he says that he didn't want to say anything until they knew something for sure, he says "just go on to work, and I'll call you with an update later," but I don't think he really realizes the words that are coming out of his mouth when he says these sorts of things.

She had some tests done and they cleared a blockage, so she should be able to go home soon. In the end it turned out to be not as big a deal as it maybe could have been. But even as I hugged my father in relief, it was all I could do not to break out a little Dr. Evil on him, you know?

         I mean, how can I help make things better
         if I don't know that anything's wrong?


[Listening to: Ours, "Here is The Light"

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