Dear Brain, please don't let this be a recurring thing.

[cupcake_goth]

 Yesterday I finally got to hang out with Dad and his ladylove! Yaaaaay! 

Dad is doing much better, and he has an appointment with one of his doctors tomorrow to talk about meds, lifestyle changes, etc. The entire time they were at our place I made sure both he and Patty had constantly-full glasses of water and snacks. "You're fussing", said Dad. "You went to the ER and didn't tell me, of course I'm fussing", I replied. Yes, father of mine, I am going to use that as a way to win the conversation for THE REST OF TIME, GOOD LORD. 

But he's doing lots better. I'm a little worried about Patty's health (not going to elaborate, it's not really my place), and have plans to call her daughter to find out what (if anything) I can do to help. 

We took them to our favorite local Italian place for an early dinner, and after many hugs they headed home.

And then my brain decided it would be an awesome time to have a big anxiety spike. Because, y'know, Dad's health, let me worry about it. Let me spiral about what if he DOESN'T take care of himself, and there will be a point in the future when he isn't around because mortality is stupid and and and. Pete ordered me to take anti-anxiety meds and episodes of my Emotional Support Cannibal.

So yeah. Dear Brain, let's not do that again, okay? Not fun. Do not like. 

But here, have a photo of Dad. 
 

Comments

[staxxy]

he looks SO MUCH BETTER!!! He was almost gray when I saw him last. This is a HUGE relief!!

I will be going by there in the next week to drop $ off for dad and maybe I will see him then and will let you know how he is if I do. <3

[tiggymalvern]

Clearly your dad enjoyed his Italian :-)