Dreaded Phone Call

I received that dreaded call this morning, the one that changes everything.  My father fell last night, walking from the kitchen table to the sink.  His right arm has been numb for several weeks.  When he lost his balance he was unable to steady himself with the hand he typically relies upon.  He fell backwards on the floor, clunked his head.  An ambulance rushed him to the hospital, and he was released several hours later to my mother’s care.  However, it was a sign of larger problems brewing.  Today they received a prognosis from his biopsy; the mass on the right side of his neck is non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. 

Bins packed for my weekend camping trip to Idylwilde were quickly unpacked.  With a foggy brain, I gathered clothes in my suitcase while trying to get a flight.  I cried to a man in India, and lost my patience with a curt woman in Florida.  I kept asking for a miracle when MP took control of the situation, and not only booked me a flight but gave me her miles.  I welcomed the help, which continued to present itself through out the day.  A late afternoon hike eased my apprehension.  I wonder what awaits in NJ.