Dad hasn't been feeling well the past couple of weeks. When I talk to him in the morning on the way to work, he thinks he might feel a bit better than the day before; by noon, he's doing okay, but not great; by evening, he just doesn't feel well at all. We've been encouraging him to get in to the doctor, but he believes that the next day, he'll feel better.
Well, he hasn't.
Early Saturday morning, he called to say that he thought he should go to the emergency room because he just wasn't breathing well. I told him I'd pick him up, but he felt (and rightfully so)that he'd receive more immediate attention if he arrived by ambulance. I told him I'd meet him there.
Poor dad. As we sat in the ER and waited for all of tests to come back, his anxiety kept building by the moment. We both knew that he would end up being admitted, and were just waiting for the final word. And then, there it was: he was being admitted for pneumonia in both lungs and a urinary tract infection. Oh boy, here we go again.
If I may ask, please keep dad in your prayers. He's sad and depressed, misses mom more than any of us know, and now he's not well on top of all of that. We love you dad, and are all praying for a speedy recovery. We want you to come home soon! ...and WELL!