So I started out my day like I usually do, a cup of java and log on the computer. Nice morning, around 12:30 I get a phone call from my step-brother that my dad was taken to the hospital, he couldn’t walk. That’s when I felt the bottom drop out.

I live over an hour away, so D leaves work, gets me and Miss Priss and we head to the hospital, picking up my sister on the way. We didn’t have a clue as his condition, so you can imagine how worried we were. Oh, did I mention that the reason we didn’t know was because my dad’s wife refused to call me or my sister? Yeah, but that’s a whole other story.

Dad was in the ER when we arrived, but they were getting ready to move him up to a room. I stepped out to speak to the nurse as I wasn’t told anything when we got there. She explained the doctor could come to talk to us, I just looked at her, told her I wasn’t even called that my father was rushed in, the look of shock on that nurses face was what I had been feeling since I received that phone call, she hugged me and told me that he had had a stroke, they found a small bleed and will run more tests to see if any blockage was involved. I couldn’t thank that ER nurse enough for caring and having a heart.

Dad is resting, he’s in no pain, just uncomfortable. He has significant weakness on his right side, his speech isn’t effected that much. He’ll be ok, I’m sure of it. I have to be. I, on the other hand, am a wreck.