It's Like This:

 ... I was at work Thursday November 3rd when Carlos called:

"Call your dad. He's at home saying he's having trouble breathing."

Not a desperate thing, so much, except rather than calling, oh I dunno, say a doctor or a paramedic, the fire department, my father dials a house 3,000 miles away to complain of dizziness and trouble breathing.  I suggest all those aforementioned other choices or I'll make those call myself, so Dad relents and calls the paramedics.

Sidenote: when I was in high school I was home one night watching TV with my mother and sister when my father entered the room, told us he thought he was having a heart attack, and was driving himself to the hospital. M y mother was so stunned she was motionless, and so off my dad went to discover it was gas or indigestion or anything other than a heart attack. By the time he returned home, my mother had recovered enough to rip him a new one about his antics.

I called the nearest hospital to my dad and was told his blood pressure had dropped and there were some issues with his heart and they were looking for a bed for him in a cardiac hospital. I left work and went home where Carlos and I--who had planned on visiting my father this week for a vacation, worked on getting me the quickest flight out, which was at 4:30AM Friday morning. I kept in contact with the doctor in Newport, who told me my father was doing fine, laughing and joking, but being transferred to Salem Health Hospital. I tried them and, well, you know, bureaucracy, they had no record of my dad being admitted. That naturally panicked me, but I was off anyway, flying out as fast as possible.

I got to Oregon, rented  a car and drove down to Salem where my father was in the cardiac wing. He looked a little worse for wear, but I guess, who wouldn't. They were putting two stents in to open up an artery to his heart, and he would also get a pacemaker "installed." One days the stents were in and the next day the pacemaker, and then it was decided he needed two more stents and those didn't go in until Tuesday; Dad was not happy. But this made me feel better because he was awake and angry and ready to rumble to get out.

So, the third stent went in and there was one complication; they go in through a vein in the groin and a blood vessel was nicked and my father was bleeding; not serious, but worrisome. And that little nick kept him hospitalized for four more days until they could figure out what happened and why and how to fix it. And aill that took was a cardiac doctor coming in, explaining that sometimes the nick creates a bubble on the vein that fills with blood; the bubble usually goes down by itself but not in my Dad's case. But when the doctor found out that his home was 90 minutes away and not in Salem, she came back into the room with her nursing assistance and basically popped the bubble right then and there.

And Dad was out. I had, in the meantime, gotten hold of my brother, and he was coming up so we could tag-team dad and I could go home. i hared the idea of Carlos being home alone, though we had friends and neighbors who checked in, stopped by for lunched and drove him to get groceries and such, but as I told my Dads, Carlos is my priority and as soon as my brother arrived, I booked the hell out of Oregon and came home ... where I have been for a few days relaxing and enjoying my life and husband and pets while my dad is home, with my brother, recuperating quite nicely.

And so that was my week-and-a-half of drama, including Dad's dog and his house and the cold and a rental car so tiny I almost had to crawl inside to drive it.

But all is well and we are once again settling into our routine, though Carlos and I may head out to Oregon sometime next month for a real vacation. Again , thanks for all the good thoughts, I really think that energy helps.