Two

My Grandad Seikaly died of a stroke at the age of 62. So did his father. So this morning when my dad woke up and said the room was spinning and then he felt dizzy for another hour, neither one of us felt like taking any chances.  We put the two girls in a cab with us and headed to the emergency room at St. Luke's.  Because hospitals don't scare me anymore but losing my dad does. 

A few hours, and many "Wash your hands!" later, we head across the street to my mother-in-law's apartment to eat lunch. Dad was discharged. The doctor determined he was not having a stroke.  We were both very, very happy to be wrong.  And the girls were very, very hungry.

Shortly after returning everybody home and giving dad a rest, Della and I made our way up to The Cancer Center for my second radiation session.  I don't need assistance, but it is very nice to have the company. It's also a nice 45 minute walk and I made up for my missed my therapy session this week by talking Della's ear off.  I was too worried about dad to think at all about radiation but maybe that's the way it should be. And then I got the news I've been waiting to hear for months (ok, years).  My sister Kate is having a girl.  I jump up and down on the sidewalk and scream and maybe even squeal, I don't remember.  But I leave the worry state and move over to elation.  Then I breathe an extra sigh of relief because there was a good chance my brother-in-law was going to kill me for prematurely shipping 27 boxes of girls clothes to his house.  But now I get a medal. 

I also see this on my way to The Cancer Center.  Not that I believe in signs or anything.