All week long the news has just been getting worse.
My father-in-law has an abscess in his aorta, and the doctors say that his aorta and his year-old valve replacement must be replaced. He is not in strong condition like he was last year when he had the valve replacement. Fortunately he has just been moved to a better hospital.
Little Brother doesn't get why everyone else is on edge, poor guy.
TheDad is staying near the hospital (better than 1 1/2 hours away)--he was here last night for the first time since Monday. He has asked me to be ready to bring the kids up there and be prepared to stay. So I am using up leftovers for dinner, even though I am not hungry to eat it--I have to eat if I might have to drive tonight. And I am thinking about what needs to be packed, like the cell-phone charger and TheDad's favorite coffee, because he will be wanting that creature comfort. I also need to dig out my map of the area where the hospital is, because for the past two days I have been making wrong turns on familiar territory. (I guess that is where my anxieties are coming out. I don't cry much, so people think I am strong. News flash: that's not always how it works. I just hide it better.)
Otherwise, I wait, and I dread phone calls.