Day 1: Sink explosion. Clogging of the drain on the right hand sink caused backup of water to explode out of the failing seal on the left hand sink. Full sink seal failure. Gallons of yucky water, and me in my sock feet. Gross. Refuse to study after clean up. Life is stupid.
Observe the air that exists between the thing coming out of the bottom of the sink and the thing that should be taking all the gross sink water out to sea. Or wherever gross sink water goes.
Day 2: Study and Assessment lab. No issues.
Day 3: Study and Skills lab. No issues. I'm feeling pretty on top of things. I am not worried at all about my Pathophysiology test on Friday.
Day 4: Study from 10:30 to 4:30 and get through one stupid chapter. I realize I know nothing about Pathophysiology, and I am going to absolutely fail my stupid test. Call husband and remind him to replace the back seat in his Jeep so we can all go to our friends' house for dinner. He informs me that he has misplaced the hardware for the backseat, and he can't install it. I tell him to make it as safe as possible for me to sit back there. I ride on a folding camping seat on the floorboard. Very classy. We eat delicious burgers with smoked Gouda and peppered bacon, sweet potato fries, and a yummy salad. And, we laugh a lot with our friends. Then, on our return home, proceed to fight the traditional Thursday night math homework fight with our son. Both my son and my husband have lost their tempers and their minds. In the middle of this I look at my phone and see I've missed a call from my sister. There is also a text message from her that says, "Call me, please." This is not going to be good. I call her back, and she tells me that our dad is in the ER and there is the possibility he has had a stroke. They are going to be performing tests, CT scans, MRIs, etc. She'll call me when she knows more. I'm not sure how to tell my husband and son this. They can tell I'm upset. The fighting stops. The atmospheric pressure drops in our house. Our house feels somber. We pray for my dad.
I stay up late working on school stuff. I talk to my dad around 12:30, and he is on morphine. I wonder if a stroke would cause lasting pain that would require morphine. I don't think I have all the information. I don't say any of this to my dad. I am more worried after I hang up the phone.
Day 5: Test day. I'm definitely not prepared. My mind is elsewhere. I keep checking my phone, but I have to turn it off during the test. I am anxious. I start my test, and I know almost all the answers. I can reason my way through the ones I'm not sure about. We did a test analysis immediately after the test was finished. I made a 94. What the what?! I'm shocked.
My school day finishes at 4:00, and I wait until 5:30 to call my sister. She is en route to the hospital and will call me when she gets there and has news. At 6:00 she calls and sounds upset. She asks if I'm at home and can talk. My body is very tense. I close myself into my bedroom and crawl into my bed. I'm prepared for the very worst news. She tells me that the MRI revealed several lesions on my dad's brain. His melanoma has insidiously returned and metastasized to his brain. Jesus.
I don't know how to tell my son. He loves his grandfather so much. His Grampa (Gumpa, The Green Goblin, Pick). But, I do. I am crying into my husband's chest, and I explain what I know. Our hearts are breaking. So slowly. But, we get to spend time with him. We get to say goodbye. We may still see a miracle. God, please, make him better.
I start making arrangements to travel to Atlanta. My husband is taking me to pick up a rental car when I call my mother. She happens to be in Charleston, not far from Savannah, and offers to come pick us up. She is going to cut her trip short and rush home also. I take her up on this, and my son and I drive up with her that night. My husband will join us the next day so he can make arrangements for the dogs.
Day 6-7: We leave for the hospital in the morning, stopping on the way for breakfast and coffee for everybody, and clean clothes for my dad. Mom, my sister, my son and I all hang out with my dad for a few hours. Then I spend Saturday night and Sunday alone with him. He is so slow. He seems so much older than the last time I saw him. I don't know if it's the cancer or the drugs. I am trying to stay positive in front of him, but I am so sad. I help him with his food, and I sneak down to the family waiting room to get him good coffee. I try unsuccessfully to study for the Assessment test I have on Monday. I just hang out with my dad. My in-laws drop off a rental car for me, and my son and I leave around 5:00. My husband stays behind to help my sister take care of some business. We get home close to 11:00, and I let my son sleep in bed with me. We are both sad, and scared, and don't want to be alone.
I'll return to Atlanta on Friday after school. So I can hug this wonderful man so tight.
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