My Dad's Close Call

Last weekend my mom took my dad, who has been battling esophagus issues, to the ER because he was very sick. He hadn't eaten in four days, wasn't going to the bathroom, had severe stomach pain, was whiter than a ghost, etc. The ER did an x-ray, said they couldn't find anything, and sent him home. My brother, a truck driver, happened to be home that weekend and was very concerned. He decided he didn't want to mess around with the hospital in Erie, told my parents to get in the car, and drove them to Pittsburgh late at night (it's over 2 hours away, but where my dad goes every few months to get specialized treatment for his esophagus). While being admitted, my dad started throwing up immense amounts of blood and passed out. My mom somehow "caught" him, pushing him toward the bed, which broke his fall. She ran into the hallway and yelled for some doctors. The next thing she knew, she and my brother were kicked out of the room while six doctors worked on my dad. Long story short: He had an episode of esophageal varices (he was bleeding out), and had he not already been at the hospital, he probably would have died (especially given the incompetence of the Erie hospital my parents had been at earlier that night, had they still been at home). As it was, my dad remained in critical condition all night and didn't stabilize until the next day. Nearly a week later, my dad is still in the hospital and has had two surgeries: one a repeat of an earlier surgery to try to help with his esophagus issues (the first surgery failed) and another to put in a "temporary" (possibly months to a year) feeding tube because my dad has lost a lot of weight and is malnourished since he has had a hard time keeping food down. Anyhow, my dad is doing much better and should be able to come home sometime next week!