We got the call just after 7pm. My dad had gone for a run, collapsed, and was found dazed and confused by his friends, who called an ambulance.
I drove my mom to the ER. We spent four endless hours at my dad's bed, waiting for test results that took forever to reach us. Just before midnight, the doctor told us my dad's heart was okay, but they'd keep him overnight for observation. My mom and I were sent home. We hadn't eaten yet.
The house felt wrong when we came home. Empty without my dad. I started crying.
"You have to eat something," my mom said. She dug up some chicken nuggets from the depths of the freezer. Everything felt incomplete with just the two of us there, but after a couple of chicken nuggets, we thought for the first time that everything would turn out okay. My dad is too stubborn to go like that. Especially when there are chicken nuggets to be eaten with his family.
