Chapters of 2012

Just when you think you're drained, something else happens and it starts all over again.  Yesterday was a taxing day, the end to a taxing week.  I thought by the time I had finally gone to sleep last night, I'd shed some good tears, and had a good de-brief with my husband, so today would be the start of another week.  Fail.

This morning brought a phone call.  I had just bought a few plants and was madly trying to plant them before Chloe's dentist appt when it started raining.  So I jumped in the car and saw I had a missed call - from my Dad.  Strange.  I called him straight back and then came the beginning of the next chapter of the tale that is 2012.

Dad has had what they think is a heart attack - on Sunday.  He's been in hospital since then, but thought he'd wait til he found out what was going on before letting me know.  Thoughtful yes?  Anyway, turns out the old man's heart is blocked to within an inch of life and he now requires triple bypass surgery.  I sat in the driver's seat of my car whilst his lady friend filled me in on what had been happening.  There are some if's and but's, because you see, Dad has been a heavy smoker for some 50 odd years.  And he also has a lot of chest congestion, which does not make him the prime candidate for serious kick arse surgery.  So it's a little old waiting game. 

I was very brave, I uttered a few "ah-huh's" and a couple of "okay's", but I really just wanted to cry.  My Dad is sitting in a hospital 1345 kilometres away (yes I did just google that statistic!) waiting for a thumbs up, or down, to surgery.  All three of his children are interstate.  And his lady friend tells me that if he has the surgery, he will need full time care for two weeks afterwards - translated to: Your Dad needs you.

I tried calling my sister.  No luck.  I rang my Mum, who hasn't been married to my Dad for over 25 years, and told her to call my brother.  And then I just got on with it.  I got on with cancelling his flights down here in October, that I only booked last week.  I rang Andrew and filled him in.  I began the mind boggling task of working out how on earth I would be able to drop everything here and relocate to The Gold Coast for a week or so?

My sister called me back.  We came up with a plan.  I cried and gave her a serve for being a smoker.  I cried and told her that my family were all going to die because they make stupid choices and that I will be left all alone.  I went to a funeral exactly one week ago for a beautiful woman who died basically from smoking.  It was very close to home.  I cried and told her I was sick of having unreliable siblings.  And she apologised.  And we laughed.

My brother called back.  He agreed to the plan but won't be an active participant because he can't leave the state at present.  I'll leave that with you to put two and two together.  But he did offer to listen to me when I was balling my eyes out.

I called Dad back.  Relayed our plan to him.  Assured him that if and when he has surgery, I will fly up there, rent an apartment (Nope, I won't be caring for him in his caravan!) and care for him and then my sister will fly up and we'll play tag team so she can take the second half of the job.  I think he was a tad speechless.  But very grateful.

I only re-connected with my Dad about nine years ago, which I sort of wrote about HERE.  I'm just a little bit worried that things may not go well and I will once again, be Father-less.

I'm TRYING to be positive!  And I'm ever so grateful for an amazing bunch of human beings who just happen to be my friends for sending me wonderful little messages of support!  Including this little gem....

I know I'm a lucky girl.  But sometimes, just sometimes, I would like some time to breath between chapters.  Just a little.