The quick story is that my father had to have surgery in NYC and I flew out here on about half a day's notice. The health details are really his and not mine to broadcast, but in short and somewhat vaguely: The surgery was originally scheduled to take place the first week in February. Major stuff, but something he'd known for years would at some point be necessary. Nobody was too panicky and all prognoses were good. My father had said there wasn't even a need for me to fly east for it, but I had made arrangements to do so anyway. Then last Tuesday some related complications arose which were in fact quite serious and he wound up in the hospital overnight in New Jersey and then ambulanced to NYC on Wednesday. I thought the surgery would then be on Thursday (although my father says he doesn't know where I got that idea), but in fact it took place on Monday (which was really good -- it wasn't clear at all they'd be able to get it in that soon).
Last Wednesday I changed my original February tickets so that I could fly to NYC on Thursday and return Monday. After I got here and the schedule become clearer I moved the tickets home to Wednesday (tomorrow). I've been in NYC for nearly a week now. I have done my personal bit to save Northwest-Delta from having to declare bankruptcy this year.
I had some hopes that I'd be able to take a break now and then to meet up with some of you who live in NYC, but that never worked out. On the other hand, I've spent some nice time with my family, particularly my young nephews whom I rarely get to see.
The surgery was yesterday (Monday) and there were no complications and it all went swimmingly and everyone is delighted and amazed at my father's superfast recovery. He'll be hospitalized for another few days (barring unexpected complications). I write this from a friend's apartment. I return to the hospital this evening and that's the end of this adventure. All is looking well.
But boy oh boy, has this been surreal.