I was at my best friend's house when my brother called me.. "the paramedics are here, you have to come home now." I don't think my body has ever shaken more in my life. When I pulled onto the street, I could see the red lights flashing. It seemed so surreal. The ambulance took up the whole driveway so I ran through the high snow that made up the front yard. The door was open and there were footprints all over the floor. My brother was standing there waiting and I could feel that I was still shaking. We didn't say much to each other before I ran up the stairs to find a team of paramedics and my mom. She seemed to be calm, but yet again, she's always been a strong woman. I barely got a glimpse of my dad before the paramedics told me there was no room for me upstairs. I felt non-existent, as if none of this was actually happening. Maybe it was a dream... I wish it was a dream.
Some time had passed. One minute felt like ten. Five felt like an hour.
I could hear my dad being brought down the stairs. When I looked, he was in some sort of chair that I had never seen before. I remember hearing a man saying, "Don't try to grab on to anything Dan. It will only make our job harder"... Normally (being the stubborn Italian he is) he would ignore that, but this time he didn't. He didn't have the strength to ignore it.
They lifted him onto the stretcher... he looked so small, like a young boy being carried by his father when he's fallen into a deep sleep. He was holding a bag to his mouth to catch the vomit and it was obvious he had no energy left.
Throughout the following six and a half hours, my mom would call to update us. "They just took him for a test"..."They tried another anti-nausea drug"..."He's sleeping"..."He's really tired"...
My dad will be fine, he just needs to rest and recover. He's been through worse and I know he's strong.
Everything that happened seems like an overwhelming dream... I wish it had been a dream.