Poor Dad

I needed a drink a water at around 2am yesterday, so I got up to go downstairs to the kitchen to refill my Polar Pop cup. As I made it to the middle floor, and walked passed the downstairs, my Dad called me and said he needed to talk to me. 2am? I knew something was wrong. I quickly went all the way downstairs and saw by the look on his face something was wrong. Heart attack, stroke? Oh my God, what is wrong? He started to sit up (good sign) and said he would talk to me upstairs. Then Jake woke up. Dad quickly told him to go back to sleep that everything was ok.
Dad and I then went up to the kitchen where I filled up my cup and sat at the table. Dad then asked me to please call our Dr in the morning. He couldn't take it anymore. He was having, what he felt like was anxiety attacks that were continually happening. Since, I have suffered from anxiety and panic attacks over the last 15 years, I completely understood where he was coming from. I hadn't had an attack in 3 years until this past winter. We talked about a lot of what had been happening, things I had noticed and Dad admitted to a lot of different changes in his life. Depression and anxiety have definitely set in for him. He turns 60 in just a few weeks, he has outlived most of the men in his family except his brother. I think that scares him too. In the end he seemed calmer after we talked. I am glad we have the relationship we do and that he knew he could come to me. He told me that he came to me because he knew I understood what he was going through and could relate and help him overcome it. (I will save that for another blog)
So, I called our Dr today and made an appointment to for him to go next Monday. Of course, he wants me to go with him. As a little girl, I always wanted him to go with me, nice to know it works the other way :)