tavie.com

Always with the drama. So, around 9:30, my parents and I were watching tv, and my dad started complaining of dizziness and white lights behind his eyes. We were concerned but not alarmed, but mindful of the mini-stroke symptoms his doctor had warned us about. (My dad, at 67, is a world-class drama queen; when he stops complaining about his health is when we worry.)

When the complaints didn't subside and he became short of breath we became more concerned, and when he stood up and slumped into us, unable to stand, and didn't respond to our pleas to sit back down until we physically forced him back onto the couch, then we became worried. His blood sugar was fine when we checked it but his lips were pale and he seemed very weak and began insisting that he was fine, which was the scary part.

Kirsten was skeptical, my mom was trying not to panic, and looking to me for cues, and when Dad couldn't stand up by himself I could feel the control slipping and I told Kirsten, with just a hint of panic, that she should call 911. Which she did. I don't know how I became in charge there. I don't want to be in charge. But we're supposed to watch out for any signs that he might start to have a real stroke, and for all I know... and my mom was looking to me. It's all backwards. I'm the adult?

When the (wonderful) EMT's arrived, he began to seem better and started cracking jokes and before we knew it we were rolling our eyes and seeking escape. But they wanted to take him to the hospital to get him checked out, and my mom wanted me to go with her, so I rode in an ambulance for the first time.

Now I wonder if he's somehow bringing the symptoms on subconsciously for the attention. Somehow. Because suddenly he became The Great Fred Phillips, and was holding forth with these people. Just like back in Disney World. That is not a sick man. My mom, choking with her asthma, was in worse condition than he was by the time we were in the ambulance.

Dad seeking attention is nothing new, but these seem to be extreme measures. My mom joked that this is what happens when we don't let him watch ER one night...

Anyway, he's still at the hospital, getting a CAT scan, but Mom said all was fine, so I went home in a cab to try to salvage a night's sleep. Kirsten was right all along, thank god, but you don't wanna take chances, right?

Even with a drama queen?

The worst part was that in the elevator out of the building, he said to one of the EMT's, "I hope this isn't a false alarm." Isn't a false alarm. That is a scary, stupid thing to say, dammit.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:29 PM | shower me with attention