Mom and Dad weren't at the hockey game because they were taking care of Andrea, who was in a mess. Her husband was in Seattle, the kids had gotten themselves off to school with snarly hair, and Andrea thought she was passing a kidney stone. Thank goodness her Grandpa took charge. They picked her up and took her to the emergency room, dropped Uncle Tad's name so that she got gold star treatment, and then stayed with her (without eating) for what ended up being a 14 hour ordeal that ended in emergency surgery. It wasn't a kidney stone. She wasn't fine. Her husband made it to Boise right before they wheeled her into what the doctor described as a terrible, terrible surgery.
The rest of the family enjoyed the evening at the hockey game. You'd think we'd communicate better in this age of texting. You'd think that Mom and Dad would ask for reinforcements, or at least have one of us bring them something to eat. You'd think we could get updates. Not this family. I went to see Andrea this morning and she just kept saying "I'm good", while pressing the pain medication button. Her sister in Denver and an aunt in Utah had already sent flowers. Her supporting loved ones that watched the hockey game, five blocks away, while she was in surgery, didn't even know what was going on.
Andrea was a bit out of it this morning, but she was worried about her grandparents. I went to see them next. They said they were fine. They said they didn't even think about being hungry, or tired, or without medicines, or oxygen. So many people in my family don't communicate...and they lie.
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