There are a lot of things I love about living in Alaska.
I love Alaska.
And the truth of the matter is, there are only a very few things about living in this state that I don’t love.
Number one on that list being that it is 3500 miles too far from the people I care about most in this world.
My dad has been getting sick a lot in the last few months. He kept calling it the stomach flu, and I kept telling him that it wasn’t normal at all to get the stomach flu that often. That he needed to see a doctor, and get some tests done, because… something was wrong.
I may have even joked a few times that his new wife was probably poisoning him. I mean, let’s get real – mysterious stomach issues cropping up so soon after my goofy looking old man marries a gorgeous woman? I love her, but as I explained to him… we would have to remain open to all the possibilities. I told him he really should get into the doctor soon, if only to be tested for arsenic.
The problem is, my dad is stubborn. In case you ever wondered where I get that lovely trait from – it was him. And that man will avoid going to the doctor at all costs, always convinced that he’s fine. Even when he’s not. Even when he’s not at all.
I got a phone call yesterday morning from my dad. My dad who was in the hospital, and preparing for emergency surgery after waking up that morning in excruciating pain.
They found out pretty quickly that it was his gallbladder, and knowing that – there was no reason to be overly concerned. But for a split second there, I was in panic mode. Thinking that it would take me at least 10 hours of flying to be there, and that would only be once I actually managed to get on a plane. Who knew how long finding a flight would take.
As soon as I knew he was OK, I calmed myself down. Went about my day, and didn’t think about it too much more after that besides calling to check in on him a few hundred times once he was out of surgery.
But last night – I had a panic attack that rivaled anything I have experienced in a long time.
All of a sudden, all I could think about was what I would do if something really happened to my dad. If something really went wrong, and I was so many hours away. As it is, something happening to my dad is probably one of my biggest fears. But knowing the distance is there as well – it hurts my heart to think about.
When I was still living in San Diego, I had a friend from up here visiting me when her mom got incredibly sick and landed in the hospital. When she first got the call, they weren’t sure her mom would still be alive by the time she got home. We rushed to get her on a plane as soon as possible, and I wound up leaving the very next day for Alaska (two weeks ahead of originally scheduled). All I remember thinking was how awful it was going to be if her mom didn’t make it. How much I wanted to be there for my friend if the worst case scenario happened.
Her mom did end up pulling through, but it was close there for a while. And even then, all I could think was that I never wanted to get a phone call like that.
I still don’t ever want to get a phone call like that.
It was just his gallbladder. We were joking back and forth by the afternoon, and my stepmom is already asking for a public apology for all the times I’ve suggested in the last few months that she was slipping poison into his food. I told her that I’m all public apologied out as of late – but she knows I love her. And I never really believed she would poison him. (no, not me, I would never ever think something like that)
He is fine, and already on the mend. In the grand scheme of things, this really was no big deal.
But there I was last night, having a complete and total melt down over all the darker possibilities I never actually want to have to contemplate. It was not a normal reaction at all, but in my defense… I am 3500 miles too far away if something worse ever does actually happen.
I called the devirginator this afternoon, and made him repeat a promise to me that I’ve forced him to make 100 times before. If anything major ever happens at home – he’ll be there to hold me together by the time I get off the plane. Because if there ever is something really traumatic to face, I’m pretty sure he is the only one who could.
He promised, but still… I found myself looking at homes in Oregon all the same.
I love Alaska. I really don’t think I’ll be leaving anytime soon.
But sometimes…
It just seems like 3500 miles too far.
