It was 4:53a.m. The phone was ringing incessantly. Jason got up to answer it and all I could hear was him going "Yup....yup". And then a couple of minutes later, he's back in the room going "Dad's in the hospital. We have to go".
Random thoughts are going through my head..."In the hospital? Why? What's going on? What's happened? Is he okay?"
"The only thing they said is to go to the emergency ward, he's made a turn for the worse".
We rush down to the emergency room, wondering "What the hell's going on??? What's wrong with him??? Are we going to make it??? Has he been in an accident???". His mum's there and she's not looking too crash hot.
The doctor comes in.
He looks at us, introduces himself ("Hi, I'm Ken, the cardiologist") and shakes our hands.
He pauses.
"Your dad's had a heart attack. It was quite severe. We're moving him to the cardiac care unit to keep an eye on him. Do you have any questions?"
WTF?!?!? (Pardon my French). Of course, I have questions! 600 of them...starting with this:
Since when has Jason's dad had any heart problems? How is he doing? What caused it? What's going to happen now? What do you plan to do to make him better? How long will it take? Why didn't you do something to prevent it? Why is he looking so pale? Can't you make him better now?
But of course, I just keep my mouth shut until my brain can function properly and let them take him up the elevator into the intensive care wing.
He's on the bed...looking tired, frail and old...what's going to happen now?
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It is now 4:09p.m. and the tests have come back. Thank GOD the doctors have confirmed that it wasn't a heart attack. It was some wannabe infection, posing as a heart attack (even a virus can have an attitude problem!). It's called Pericarditis and it's treatable. Apparently, my dad had it when I was 3 and it sure as hell looks like a heart attack.
Only problem is that my dad was given 1 month MC for that...Jason's dad's self employed. What's going to happen then?
