I arrived home late the evening of October 9th. Spending time with my children are moments I will cherish. I fell asleep on the couch and when I woke up the next morning it wasn't long when my phone rang and it showed "dad" was calling. I had no idea that a nightmare was about to begin.
I missed the call and phoned back immediately with no answer. Thinking he had gone to the bathroom, I waited 5 minutes and called again. There was still no answer. A few minutes later the phone rang. I didn't even think about the time change of 2 hours when the phone rang. Jet lag, or just shear exhaustion of running all week, it just didn't hit me. However when I said hello daddy, and it wasn't his voice, there's that split second you think it is a wrong number. However the voice was the cook from the assisted living home, and she stated that dad had fallen and was taken to the hospital. I knew it was bad because of her voice. If ever you have had that deepest fear, I think that is what overcame myself at that moment. I hung up, looked at my daughter and stated I needed to get home and would probably be back to catch another plane to get back home.
Who do you call? It is a long weekend in Canada and the only person I could think of who would be home was the old neighbour, however, I didn't have his phone number. Then the thought of did anyone call mom? Distraught starts to set in. Calling the hospital would give me no answers and I knew that. So the neighbour received my call and he was more than willing to go. The call back later was that he had shattered his shoulder in 3 places and was in a lot of pain. They were transferring him from St Paul's to RUH. I spoke to mom who I could tell in her voice I needed to be home. I scheduled my flight for the next day.
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