Yesterday I got the kind of phone call you hope never to get, the kind where the caller doesn't say until WAY too late that the person in question isn't dead. "Um, hi, listen, I've got some bad news. So you know how hot it's been here, and Dad's been working too hard outside and his heart started racing and he got way overheated and then... (pause, pause, my stomach falls out of my body) ..."
So I feel really shaky and terrified, because even after I realized that Crasey wasn't saying that Dad was dead, she was just saying that he's in the hospital, I still can't come down off the shock and adrenaline and panic. At first they thought it was just heat stroke and exhaustion, but it's become clear that he's much much sicker than that. He's got sepsis, which is an infection that gets into the blood and totally fucking terrifying to Google. I know he's in hospital and getting good health care, but jesus christ, this is scary. Dad is never sick. He's SuperDad. And the doctors have no idea what's making him sick, so they're just running endless tests and trying to control the symptoms.
Thank God I'm with my girls right now, because when I got off the phone and started sobbing like a baby, they just sat there and hugged me and didn't try to calm me down. The wonder of old friends is that they've already seen you lose your shit, and they know how to let you do it again.
So I've cancelled my trip to Minneapolis and tomorrow I fly back to Austin, repack my bags, and head back to NC to take care of Bug and help Mom, Crasey, and the Fairy King try and keep things running smoothly. Keep us in your thoughts, please.