An excercise in what-the-fuck-ery

Last evening (Friday. I began writing this on Saturday), I received a call from Mom around 10:30. My dad, on his cross-country bike trip, had been in a bad wreck somewhere in Eastern Ohio and was taken to the hospital. Now, first it should be noted that Dad is okay, save for a concussion, scrapes, bruises and some severe facial damge. More or less the standard for our calamity-prone family. That story will be followed in Dad's admittedly hilarious trip blog here.

A long, freakishly stressful night waiting for phone updates would find me alone with my palm virtually glued to what will inevitably turn to gray hairs for the next six hours. The calls came at long, odd intervals. First it was "Dad was in an accident. He's in the hospital and has a lot of damage to his face." Then it was "He has some short term memory loss. He doesn't even remember being on the bike trip. They're transferring him to Columbus." At about 3 AM I got a call from Russ saying he had seen him, that he had regained his memory of everything but the crash, and that scans showed no structural or brain damage beyond a concussion.

This is nothing compared to the first phone call Mom got. It went a little something like this:
Ring Ring
Mom: Hello?
Caller: Yes, is this the spouse of Anthony Baltes?
Mom: ...Yes, may I ask who's calling?
Caller: Yes, this is Pastor Stevens from Southeastern Hospital. Mr. Baltes has been in an accident and has been brought to our facility.
Mom: wait...what? where? What is your title?
Caller: Southeastern Hospital in Cambridge, Ohio. I am the pastor here.
Mom (tears forming): Why are you calling me? Is he okay?
Caller: I cannot comment on his condition.

At this point mom was put on hold to get a nurse who could comment on his condition. Doubleyou Tee Eff.

My Aunt was visiting Mom for the weekend, so at least she had somebody to talk to/drink with. I, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Going it alone that evening was a little rough on me, to say the least as all of my friends were only available over the phone. Lindsay would show up just after I got the final report that everything was okay. At that point I was so riled up that I wouldn't have been able to sleep for hours. Lindsay came toting a computer full of awesome mp3s, a can of Pepsi, and a hug. Exactly what I needed to calm me down enough to sleep by 5 AM.