Saturday in a Nutshell

11:00 a.m. Wendy (yup, she flew in on Friday!) and I show up at the hospital to help Dad check out.

12:30 p.m. Lunch at Mom and Dad’s. Me, Wendy, Mom, Dad, sister Eileen, brother-in-law Richard, nephews Aidan and Nico.

At lunch, Aidan says “We’re all together now!” to which Dad says with a smile, “That’s right!”

2:00 p.m. I take Wendy on her

very first Christmas shopping trip. We buy presents for my sister,

brother-in-law, and cousins, who’ll all be gathered at the deVilla

extended family Christmas party on Saturday.

Wendy’s shop-fu is very good.

5:00 p.m. On the expressway bound for home when my cell phone rings. It’s In the Hall of the Mountain King — the family ringtone. I can’t answer because the phone is in my pocket and I’m driving.

“I’ll get it as soon as I get a chance to pull over,” I tell Wendy.

A minute later, the phone rings again. Family ringtone again. This

time, we’re off the highway, so I manage to pick up. It’s Eileen,

telling me that Dad was sweaty, spaced out and weak and that an

ambulance was coming for him.

I swung the car around and made tracks for the hospital for the second time that day.

5:15 p.m. Since we were

close to the hospital, we beat the ambulance to the ER. Minutes after

we arrive, Mom, Dad and the paramedics arrive. Dad’s passed out on a

stretcher, looking very pale with an oxygen mask strapped to his face,

while Mom very calmly reports all the details to the attending

physicians and nurses. All I can do is stand there. Wendy takes my hand

and squeezes it.

Mom tells us to wait in the ER lobby.

6:45 p.m. It turns out that

Dad’s blood sugar dropped to a dangerously low level. An IV helps bring

it back to a normal level, and he’s conscious again.

He tells us that he has no recollection of being taken from his bedroom

or the ambulance trip. “I felt as though I was in space and someone was

performing strange procedures on me. The next thing I remember is being

here.”

“Dad, you sound like an alien abductee,” I say, which makes him smile.

“You should eat,” Mom says. “Can we get you something?”

“I want a roast beef sandwich,” replies Dad.

I take everyone’s orders and Wendy and I go to the nearby Quizno’s.

7:30 p.m. ER picnic! Mom,

Dad, Eileen, Wendy and I are eating in the ER. Quizno’s isn’t fine

dining and the atmosphere of the ER isn’t anything to write home about,

but the stress of the past couple of hours has made us all famished.

I’ve visited Dad in the ER a number of times — he’s sort of like the

Indiana Jones of diabetes — and they always have a knack for putting

him beside a guy who’s pipelining five gallons of phlegm in his lungs.

I really hate that sound.

“Poor Wendy,” jokes Dad, “she’s been in town only two days and she’s been to the hospital three times already.”

9:00 p.m. Dad’s been moved to

the Cardiac Care Unit — the place he left only that morning — for

overnight observation. Mom, Eileen, Wendy and I make sure Dad’s all

right and head home.

---

Dad left the hospital late Sunday afternoon and had dinner with the family.