It's going to be a hard week. No getting around it. The fatigue from yesterday is abating, I'm not as numb, but the residual emotions from this past weekend are now sharing space with the grief. There's no way to escape the memories. This time last year, Dad was going to practically every damn doctor he had, looking for answers because his heartbeat seemed to be doing skips the weekend before and he was as rundown as ever. Every damn doctor gave him clean bills of health. He fell ill that Thursday night and was gone by Saturday noon. If suing his cardiologist could've brought him back, I'd have been the first one in line at the courthouse to file the paperwork. As it is, a year brings clarity (and bargaining), and I'm inquiring to his cardiologist for a copy of his file. I've always thought that there were options that Dad wasn't willing to entertain with regard to his health; we'll see if the file sheds any light.
In the meantime, press on and pray for money. We've got a credit coming from the cable company that will finance this weekend's trip if the government runs late on the stimulus check (we're supposed to receive ours by Friday). I really hope they're not running behind on those, because it would be nice to go up there with a buffer, however responsibly we have to treat it.
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