When the phone rings in the middle of the night, things start going through your head. Horrible thoughts. You generally know why the call is coming in. But your mind races even as your hand reaches for the phone. Who? When? How? At least that's normally how it works.
Early this morning, about 5am, we got one of those calls. DW picked up the phone, and saw it was from my P's. It took me a half second to get my bearings. I tried to think of all the bad reasons the phone could be ringing. I couldn't come up with anything logical. Before I let myself think anymore, I picked up the phone.
It was Mom, and although quiet, the excitement was immediately noticeable. "This could be the day, I just wanted to call you so you'd know before you head out for work." She'd apparently been sitting on this for 3 hours - how I have no idea. I would have thought she'd burst.
Anyway, they were in the 'looking good, but no guarantees' stage. They would know more by 7. So I got up and surfed the internet, hoping to find something to distract me. That didn't work, so I headed to the office. For whatever reason, 7am was burned into my brain. I listened to sports radio, trying not to look at the clock.
6:51: "Isn't Terrell Owens a jerk?"
6:58: "That Terrell Owens really is a jerk."
6:59: Commercial break
7:02: Does Andy Van Slyke think Barry Bonds was on Steroids?
7:12: "Is Terrell Owens a jerk or what?"
I gave up on the call. I got to the office a little after 7:15, and decided not to call for a while. She'd call when something came up. 8:00ish, I get a call, and Mom says "they won't know for 2 hours."
At this point, other things are going through my mind. Generally, it was relief that it would soon be over. That my dad would no longer be a diabetic. That he wouldn't have to give up Diet Coke for dialysis. And there was the momentary self-pity. If this went through, I couldn't play the "If I give up a kidney, the least I deserve is a long weekend in Vegas" angle at all. Small sacrifice I told myself.
Finally, about 10, DW calls me and says Mom told her that it's off. The pancreas was bad. Was it injured as part of the reason the guy died? Was it diseased? Did it get drunk and beat up the large intestine? Who knows.
Mom was, somehow, positive. "At least we know what it's going to be like when we get the call."
Quick Side Note: The in-laws came over tonight along with my brother in law and his wife & kid. Both of those families just got back from vaca, and we were eating together, hearing stories and looking at pictures. For whatever reason, B-I-L wrote something - very junior highish - and had his parents read it.
I AM
SOFA KING
RE TODD DID
Pops read it, but broke it up in the wrong places. It was still funny, becuase he had to read it for like 3 minutes. He knew it was funny, just not why. But then M-I-L read it. It was a perfect storm of comedy. She read it just right. Everyone laughed. She didn't get it. Then she read it over and over, maybe 5-6 times. I tried to break it up for her, but DW and B-I-L egged her on. It was hilarious. But then again, I'm easily amused.
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