The phone rings in the middle of the night

For a brief period many years ago a late-night phone call was a good thing. I lived near two popular 4 a.m. bars, and it generally meant drunken friends were attempting to rouse me from my futon to join in their shenanigans. But those days are long gone. A week ago Friday movers had taken the bulk of our stuff. Brad and I were exhausted (I'm not sure why...it's not like WE carried all of our crap up two flights of stairs) and sleeping uncomfortably on a leaky Areobed. When the phone rang at 2 a.m. for the the first time I thought it was the alarm clock. But that didn't make sense because it was still dark out. Then it rang again, and again. By the time I found the phone I knew something was wrong. The caller ID was from my sister's place, and my mind was racing. Was it my nephew? He had been sick earlier in the day and his symptoms had seemed worse than your average bug. Was it my Dad? (My parents were in AZ visiting my sister.) Oh God, was it my sister? I hit redial and when I heard my sister's voice my mind was still racing, trying to figure things out (ok, the Bad Thing didn't happen to my sister, since she was talking...so then who?). She told me they thought my Dad was having a stroke and he was headed to the hospital in an ambulance. You know when someone tells you to sit down before they tell you bad news? Now I know why...I actually felt the ground being pulled out from under me. I never expected this. He is only 71 (and now that I'm getting older 71 really does seem young). He has high blood pressure, but doesn't drink, smoke, isn't overweight. I mean, aren't everyone's parents on blood pressure medication these days? With his family history I had always worried more about heart attacks. This just seemed so out of the blue. As Mary Schmich said in her 1997 commencement address column: "Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday." So true.

It was hours and even days before we got more answers, but my Dad did have a stroke. The neurologist said that despite being on blood pressure medication his blood pressure was "too high for too long." (Here's my PSA, if you know someone with uncontrolled high blood pressure nag the hell out of them until they get to the doctor to find meds that work. There are seriously like 20 different kinds, and sometimes it is just a matter of finding the right combo.) The good news is they caught it very early and got him help. My Mom knew the signs and called 911 right away. The other good news is that he started to improve rapidly. Initially he had problems with his speech and couldn't feel one of his hands. But that is all coming back (at first I couldn't understand him much on the phone, which was heartbreaking, but by Sunday he sounded like himself, just tired). He helped my sister come up limericks to try to infuse some humor into being confined to his bed at first (something about a man from Nantucket having to poop in a bucket), so I know his sense of humor is intact.

 He was in the hospital for almost a week, and is spending another week in rehab. After that he'll go to my sister's place and do outpatient rehab if needed. I came to their place in Michigan, partly to keep an eye on the house and cat (who doesn't really like people and mostly hides from us), partly because we needed a place to go while some lead paint issues get resolved with our new place. And it is just weird to be here without him. I never realized how much we all relied on my Dad to do stuff until he wasn't here. The power went out our first night here. Dad would have started the generator, and we all would have slept soundly and toasty warm. But for the 12 hours the power was down Brad and I (and even the neighbor) couldn't even figure out how to get the wonky garage door open to even get the generator, so things got pretty nippy. Fortunately, my Dad gathers and chops his own firewood and we were able to start a fire and keep ourselves from getting hypothermia. And I've wanted to have a fire every other night I've been here. but I'm hesitant to use any more of the firewood since I don't know when (or worst case scenario, if?) he'll have the strength to go back to chopping wood and I don't want to use up his supply. In the past I would have burned through firewood with reckless abandon. Dad will just chop more, right? I feel like I've had to grow up a little over this past week. It was humbling to realize that sometimes part of me is still a selfish teenager who acts like it is someone else's job to take care of things around here.

The crappy thing about strokes is that once you have one you are much more likely to have another within the next 5 years (that is what happened to my Mom's mom).  But I'm hoping with the right medical care my Dad will have decades of wood chopping, golf ball collecting, trash rummaging, arrowhead hunting, and fishing ahead of him. And maybe even a daughter who appreciates him a little more.

It does not suck to be Brad

Today Tate told me I had "wadoo hair," which in Tatespeak means wet hair. I had to tell him that no, it wasn't wet. Just very, very dirty since I no longer have time to shower with all of this moving business going on. And then I begged Brad to watch Tate so I could get a shower. After that he got a call from a friend's hair salon because they were doing a photo shoot and wanted him to come down and get photos taken while he got his hair cut. So Brad not only got to have a free haircut and clean hair, he also got to have someone else wash it. Harumph. And that's all I have the energy to write since I've been having moving-stress-related insomnia. Fortunately, my friend Mt. Prospect Beth loaned me the first two seasons of Monk on DVD so I'm going to go watch those and try to get some sleep. It's a jungle out there.

ETA: Brad failed to mention the manicure until I saw this photo. I'm pretty sure that would have sent me over the edge.