As part of my job, I carry a pager. Our company provides 24/7 service you see, so if someones coolroom isn't working @ 2am, it's my job to send an electrician out.
Wednesday night, I bombed. Literally. My boss, M, was woken up throughout the night by pagers going off because it was so hot. He was Ok about it, but I felt like a shit.
But; what goes around comes around (as we all well know). Mum called @ 2am - Dad was a mess. All she could understand was that he was going to kill her. So, over I go (J was on her way too, but it's me who seems to be able to put him in his box when he's nuts). He'd also wet the bed. At fifty-fucking-six. Really, WHO wants their child to see them like that?
He tells me over and over that he's going to kill my mother until I snap and yell at him that he has to come through me first and bloody good luck with that. I *know* he doesn't mean it and I *know* he'd have no hope in hell of hurting her; but bloody hell. After EVERYTHING my mother (especially) does for him....
He was at the hospital all day yesterday because he was a little bit outside the box; the fuckers sent him home. But his bloods are fine - so what the hell this is this time, I have no idea. Mum and J are at the hospital now and will no doubt call me when they hear something.
I figure my Wednesday night debt is paid in full and then some.
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