About last night…

J. went to the hospital last night. He woke me up around two saying, “I’m either having an anxiety attack, or a heart attack.” Nice. So I took his pulse (after about 5 minutes of trying to find it…hey, I was still waking up), gave him some asprin (1/4 of a pill – 56mg), and called his friend in Houston who is a peremedic. Gordo told me to either call an ambulance, or drive him to the hospital if the pain lasts more than 15 minutes. Of course, by this time (with the pulse searching and pill cutting), it HAD been more than 15 minutes, so we got dressed and drove him there. He was shivering, but very warm.
We sat in the ER for about 5 hours while they performed a barrage (sp?) of tests finally coming to the conclusion nothing was wrong. They disgnoised (again, sp?) it “Chest Pain, non cardiac” and we’re still not sure what that means, and had us set up an appointment for Friday with an internal medicine specialist.
So we’ll see. They gave him Tylonal 3 but he’s still in pain and if it gets worse, I’m taking him back. Deja Vu, much?
In other news, there is no other news. We got home at 8a, slept until 4p, took the dogs to the park. It was a nice day, considering.
We both go back to work tomorrow, so I’m hoping he’ll be ok.
The rest of the week involves working Thursday and Friday, driving to Houston Friday night, Addie’s shower Saturday, then back that night.
Oh wait, I guess there is more. My dad is moving in with his girlfriend this weekend. He called me to see if we could help him move on Sunday. I HATE this. I’m almore positive that this is the woman he cheated on my mom with for years. I mean, I feel sorry for her (She has kidney cancer and they drive to Houston twice a week), but I still hate it. He told me I could have whatever furniture I wanted. End table, couch, BED. This means he won’t need his bed. They’ll be using her’s. Grrrr. I’m trying hard to be supportive, but this is nothing something I can help with.
Plus, I don’t want my mom to get the impression that I’m condoning this. But, I don’t want to hurt my dad.
I hate confrontations.


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