My father has been in the hospital all week with heart problems. It’s been very stressful. However, some of the stress could be relieved if people communicated with each other. My father spent weeks lying to us, telling us nothing was wrong, they were just running some tests, no big deal and then suddenly he’s in the hospital and the doctors are telling us he isn’t going to live.
Wow… Um, that was quite the blindsiding.
My sister, as a matter of trying to cope with this sudden news, goes on social media to express her feelings and suddenly, our father is up in arms about that. Why is she posting his business? She really isn’t, she’s trying to express her feelings and deal with the knowledge that we were told he would never walk out of the hospital alive.
I kept mum because my father and I haven’t always been known to get along the greatest. We have conflicting personalities. I love him, but can’t always agree to disagree even.
For five days, my father lived simply because norepinephrine exists. He is doing remarkably better, but I knew that blogging about it would bring down his wrath on my head. So I kept my mouth shut.
But that’s exactly what I mean… I couldn’t communicate with him, he couldn’t communicate with me. Most of the time, I think he looks at me and still sees a fragile 10-year-old girl that he has to protect. For the record, I’m not ten, I’m definitely not fragile at this point, and I prefer to slay my own dragons.
Enough for the night. Fingers crossed things stay on the improving side.