The Inmates Run the Asylum

I was going to post about the past two days at work and how I've come to really dislike Tuesdays and Wednesdays because that's when things like to go pear shaped, but there was a sudden turn of events around dinnertime that changed my mind.

Aunt Jo called to say that she was taking Papa to the hospital and she wanted Dad to come down to help wrangle him/interpret for him (he's mostly deaf and requires extra ears). Apparently, they were at my cousin Jake's ballgame when Papa had a seizure and quit breathing for a minute. He came around pretty quickly, though, and told my aunt that he'd had two others earlier today, but he didn't say anything because he wanted to go to Jake's game.

*headdesk*

I love the man, but he's as stubborn as they come. He wouldn't be doing this sort of thing if my grandma were still alive because she was more stubborn than he was. She'd have taken care of this business quick as a bunny.

I don't anticipate it being anything any more serious than what he's already got going on (he's got congestive heart failure), but still. He doesn't have to be such a pain.

I think the worst part about this whole mess is the glimpse I'm getting of my potential future with my father. He's just as stubborn and he's going to be just as big of a pain in the ass.