Last week was stressful. That might be an understatement. It was the most stressful week I’ve had in quite a while. There wasn’t one aspect of my life that wasn’t pulled off kilter in one way or another. Between men tugging on my heart strings, huge division reorganization at work, financial worry and more, by Thursday night, I was ready to relax. But first, my normal 3-day weekend was cut a bit short by a mid day work meeting on Friday. Ok, I can handle logging in for a couple of hours when it is important, it really doesn't happen that often. And it did give me a good idea how crazy and busy the next few months will be. So as soon as that was done, I ran out to take care of an errand, then picked up my mom and went hunting at some vintage and antique stores. We spent the rest of the afternoon finding things for my house. Oh, we found some great treasures!
That night I opened a bottle of wine and had a long talk with one of those heart string tugging men. I was well on my way to a relaxing weekend after a hard week. I had plans for Saturday and Sunday to get some work done outside, do some painting, get the house cleaned, and work on some sewing projects. Basically, my plan was to get some rest and get stuff done so I could give work the focus it’s going to require this week without falling apart.
Instead, I spent most of Saturday and Sunday sitting in a hospital, worried and scared. My dad’s wife called me at 9:30 Saturday morning. She had taken my dad to urgent care with chest pain, and they were transporting him to the hospital via ambulance. I met them at the ER and we sat and waited for several hours. The nurse came in and told us they were going to admit him and we’d be moving upstairs shortly. In typical fashion, my dad didn’t react much, but he got really quiet. I think that was when he realized exactly how serious this could be.
Over the next few hours, we learned that it was probably not a heart attack, but that he needed to spend the night on monitors to be sure. So, we sat and watched basketball, and we talked, and while it wasn’t anyone’s first choice for a visit, it was good. It was about as serious a wake-up call about heart disease and risk factors as anyone could have without needing more serious (surgical) interventions.
So, that was my weekend – sitting in a hospital room talking to my dad. Not a single productive thing happened at my house. It’s a mess, the laundry isn’t done, there are still a million weeds in my yard, and I’m not nearly as rested as I wanted to be for work today. But, my dad is okay for now. My world isn’t completely torn apart. Because no matter what I had planned for the weekend, the best laid plans always include room to drop everything and show up when life happens.