The Emergency Room is not to be used for hair cutting

Today is probably the worst day I've had in recent memory. With my new job I have Friday's and Saturday's off. This morning I woke up to my father whistling and yelling that he needed help. Anyone who has roomed with me knows it takes a few seconds for my brain to have any intelligent thoughts. I took too long to answer and my dad burst in my room shouting that he needed help, that he couldn't see and that he needed to go to the hospital. Not exactly a great combination.

I grabbed the first semi clothes like objects I could find, picked up my purse and ran upstairs. My father was in the garage manually pulling the door down. He'd been in the middle of installing the garage door opener when his eyes went wonky, one looking up the other down. He said it lasted for about five minutes. Since he looked okay I asked if he felt good enough for me to put on real clothes before we left for the ER. It only took me about minute to put on real clothes but it felt like an eternity.

When I got back upstairs (it was a good thing I'd gone down to my room to get dressed because my car keys were not in my purse) my father was back up on a ladder finishing the instillation... He took too long to answer questions and insisted on locking the back door before we left. It was rather annoying. If your in pain we need to just go, screw the back door.

Never before have I hated bad drivers so much. Never. I've also never hated school zones like I did today. I will admit that I went over the speed limit. But not a lot. Something was seriously wrong with my father and I couldn't risk the time it would take by being pulled over. Each minute I was stopped at a red light was excruciating; my thoughts spun out of control as I imagined the worst scenarios. I kept thinking he was going to have a seizure and die in the car and it would have been all my fault because I took the time to get dressed. The emotional roller coaster continued until I pulled into the ER drop off; it then went from up and down to pure panic as I watched daddy stagger in the door. Almost blind panic ensued as I went around to the parking garage to park the car. Later I couldn't even remember what floor I'd parked on.

Parking garages confuse me on good days, hospitals are also notoriously confusing. I'd never been in this hospital before, with the exception of when I was born, and almost burst into tears when trying to ask for directions. Thankfully they had rather large signs with easy to follow arrows. It was easy to get around once I'd calmed down enough so I could actually read the signs.

We waited less than a minute after I found the ER waiting room before being pulled back by a way to chipper nurse. Chick needed to detox the caffeine. The feeling of dread that had started when I woke up got strung tighter and tighter as she continued to ask asinine questions. I wanted to shake her and scream "Can't you tell something is wrong with my daddy?"

The only thing that stopped me was knowing nurses are required to ask those questions, that shaking a nurse is a great way to get kicked out and that one of my best friends is a nurse who talks about the crazy people she deals with at work. I don't want to be one of those crazy people. But it was so hard. It couldn't have been more than five or six minutes before she lead us back to the actual ER. At least that's what I assume it was since the entire area was done in overly soothing, sterile, horrifying hospital style. I don't care what experts in psychology say, there is nothing that can sooth people when someone they love is having medical problems Calm is not even registered as a valid emotion.

Another nurse came into the new patient room, number 13 cuz apparently the hospital staff is not superstitious at all (not that I noticed that until afterwords, like right now), and asked all the same questions again. When the doctor finally got there, and honestly in retrospect it took time but not nearly as long as it could have been, he ask all the questions a third time. I was trying to keep my freaking out to a minimum and not succeeding very well. It didn't help that every few seconds the heart monitor would let out a high pitched beeping noise. Every time I sort of got under control it would let out a loud shriek. Not exactly soothing.

The nurse came back and hooked my father up to an IV and the heart monitor. I sat their and watched it all happening, a useless bystander. It hurts to sit and watch someone you love be in pain, to have to sit there and do nothing. After a while I realized my mother did not know what was happening, I thought about calling her but ended up texting her because I didn't want to explain what was happening on voice mail. She showed up a half hour before noon so I could go get some food. One of the first things she commented on was my dad's hair, apparently it was too long and she wanted to give him a hair cut... Some days I cannot believe the things that she does. It's just unreal.

I remember being absurdly grateful when I saw that people didn't have to pay for the parking garage. I've never taken anyone to the hospital before, much less the emergency room and have never thought about the parking space and stuff that hospitals need. While I was out the doctors had him get a CT scan. Apparently he did not have a stroke, he had a pinched vein (or artery, or something like that) which causes all of the same symptoms as a stroke but isn't as bad...? I am still unclear on all of that.

What I do know is that instead of coming home and relaxing like the nurses told him too he is in the garage fixing the door opener... It's enough to make me develop eye twitches. The good news is that he's fine, there was no permanent damage. Unfortunately the doctors don't know why it happens sometimes and not others. Real helpful.