Really, what is up with this week?!
My dad has “something on the back of his heart.”
It’s almost Saturday, right? I mean, seriously, this week is almost over, right?
—-
I don’t know any more than that. He’ll get down to Champaign on Monday and they’ll be able to tell him something and, if they need to go in, I’ll go up and be there for that. The Butcher is insisting that he will also go up. So, that will be fun. I left a message for the recalcitrant brother, long and detailed, because I think there’s nothing shittier than the ominous “Call me” message.
I’m assuming that, since they didn’t immediately hospitalize him, it’s serious but not serious.
Wow. Shit. I’m sorry.
Damn.
This has been one of the worst weeks…
*sigh*
I think your assumption is probably right. Still, you and your dad are in my thoughts.
I’m sorry to hear it. crossing fingers..
*hugs* The week is almost over. I’m sending you (and your dad) prayers and good thoughts and whatever else I can muster from over here.
Your father and the Butcher set this up together so the Butcher has an excuse to take off from work, right? I’m hoping it’s nothing, and that you can take a couple of breaths and enjoy the weekend.
Holy cow.
I do think you’re right about them not calling him in right away. Nevertheless, I’m praying for you and yours.
Look at it this way, you’ve already pre-panicked. Now you can deal with whatever happens as rationally as you choose. Be a rock. Be a pile of jello. Whatever feels right. Your friends will back you up.
Hang in there. We’re thinking of you.
Thinking of you, B.
Hey honey. I’m sending good thoughts to you and your pops.
So many ginormous hugs and kisses to you.
Sending you good thoughts. If there is anything we can do from the west, let us know.
*hugs* Glows and prayers sent your and your dad’s way.