A funny man my K, one of those annoying people who would spring out of bed, instantly awake, cheery and whistling or singing. I'm the type who drags herself from under the covers, manages to get through the day and starts waking up properly sometime after lunch.
But we muddled along.
It helped that he was in the Army and away a lot. I could set my own routine. Get everything done early and mostly on auto-pilot, spend the afternoons reading until it was time to start dinner.
Somewhere in those years I birthed and we raised four babies; when he got out of the Army he had difficulty settling into civilian life, but I thought he was managing, until I realised he wasn't. We divorced somewhere along the line and he had another daughter, which brings me to the point of this little tale.
Said daughter is now 19 and was home last night when K suddenly experienced a heart attack. She drove him to hospital; two hours later he was in recovery with two brand new stents inserted.
I got the news later this morning as I was about to leave for the cinema, so headed to the hospital instead.
Imagine my surprise to see him looking pink and healthy and answering the phone as family members rang to see how he was.
Talk about a tough cookie!
It takes me almost 24 hours to recover enough to even want to see people after surgery and here he was looking a little tired but otherwise perfectly well. There were tubes and things hooked up to monitors of course, but I was told he had already been up out of bed, sitting in a chair and he'd be walking around soon. Probably a short stroll after his afternoon nap. Our youngest was there visiting when I arrived and when K began looking more tired we left.
Anyway, I'm really glad C was home to get him to the hospital. I don't want our kids to lose their dad just yet. He's only 66. (and 3/4)