Phew

My parents live about 300km from Melbourne. Last night the phone rang at 10.20pm. It was my Mum, saying my Dad had been airlifted to the Alfred Hospital and was in the trauma centre with a fractured skull and bleeding on the brain after being struck by the boom of another yacht during a race yesterday. Mum had to organise some things and wouldn't be coming down until today. I went to the hospital straight away, arriving at about 11pm. My sister C came in at about 1am and we sat with Dad until morning, holding his hand and talking to him. Even though he was unconscious most of the time, drifting in and out, we just wanted someone he knew to be there. When he finally did awake, he was very disoriented but could recognise us and move all his limbs, which the nurses and registrars told us was a good sign. C went home to her place to meet Mum and bring her into the hospital. I stayed with Dad, who was getting more responsive and restless. After a while my brothers arrived, and then Mum and C. The neurologist told us that the bleeding and swelling were minor and that Dad would require a lot of rest to allow the fractures to heal. No surgery. Very strong likelihood of a full recovery. Phew.

I got home at 2pm and had a short nap before Noddie's kinder concert. Now we are preparing for her (somewhat pared-down) birthday party tomorrow. We've got to stop inviting everyone we know to these things. I'm feeling a bit shaken and very tired, but so very thankful.