Real fear.

My father is in the hospital.

My barely 51-year-old, golf-obsessed, invincible father passed out in the middle of a huge presentation he was giving at work yesterday. Something about his heart.

How very "TV Movie of the Week" of him.

I joke at the apparent stageyness of the situation, but I am a wreck. I live five hours away and both he and my mother are refusing to let me drive down there yet "until we know what's going on." He's been in the hospital since lunchtime yesterday. What the fu** do they need to figure out?! They've done echoes, MRIs, and who knows what else. [By the way, I am in NO way affiliated with the medical field, so please excuse my complete ignorance of procedure names.] Today they are going to to a heart catheter, and may possibly put in a stint.

Apparently, this is all relatively minor, and fairly routine, and he could possibly be home this afternoon. However, this is my father. He's Superman. And all that keep running through my mind are thoughts of my grandfather.

I never knew my maternal grandfather, as he died less than year before I was born. I heard he was a great man, and my mother is still mourning his death. One of my greatest regrets is not meeting him, spending time with him, or truly knowing the beloved, amazing man I was cheated out of having a relationship with. I know what is going on with my father is routine, and I feel so grateful and blessed that it does not appear as serious as it could be. Lord knows too many of my friends have suffered real, terrible tragedies in their immediate families, and I feel selfish and awful putting myself in their league. But I am terrified this is a precursor to larger, more serious things.

And all I keep thinking is I want my child to know her grandfather.