Daddy was back in the ER last week.
Just as I was rushing into school, late for a meeting, because I had forgotten to pick up Phoebe, I got a call from my sister.
Daddy had been rushed back to the ER in the middle of the night and had been diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism~ a blood clot in his lung, just in case you are not up on all these medical terms. Although he was fine, this was serious stuff and he was going to have to be on Coumadin, a blood thinner.
He was feeling really discouraged.
I called to check in at the end of the day and got my FURIOUS mother.
Seems Daddy didn't actually have an embolism. Seems the scan was misread by the ER Doctor. Seems up north, according to my parent's PCP, who came on the scene once daylight rolled around, they don't put the cream of the crop on overnight in the ER. While this all worked out okay, my mother was understandably LIVID and I was ready to ship them right on back to FL where they got quality care!
Another round of emails went through the family with updates. The PCP consulted with a cardiologist and Daddy had a catheterization to make sure the stents were working. He had more scans later in the week to make sure there aren't any clots that might break lose. Everything has come back clear. The PCP thinks Daddy just had an anxiety attack, given all he's been through this last month and a half.
Bottom line: He is fine and in good health.
The bad news: His gig is up.