Doug and I left at halftime last night. The game was still close at 12-0, but we knew that if we stayed until the end, we wouldn't get out of the stadium before 11 p.m. That would leave us very little driving time tonight and a longer trip today. There was another benefit of leaving early. I would no longer have to listen to the crowd around me scream negative comments at Josh Hoover. No, he is not Fernando Mendoza, but very few people are. Blaming our poor offensive performance on just him was not only wrong, but ignorant. It completely ignored the fact that our offensive line isn't as strong as last year's team. I had definitely had my fill by the time we left, but still very hopeful that the Hoosiers would hold on and win the game against a much better Northwestern team than anyone had predicted. Thankfully, the Hoosiers did hold on and ended up winning 29-23. It was a tense game that kept Doug and I wide awake all the way to Tennessee.
We left this morning from our hotel at 8 a.m. glad that we would be able to make it to Ocala by nightfall. On the trip, I decided to call my dad. Both Cameron and I had talked to him yesterday and realized that something was wrong. My cousin, Jeannette, kept texting me as well to see where I was and when we were leaving for Florida. I realized that was a sign but knew that even if there was something wrong, I couldn't do too much about it. I had to get back to Florida and see my family doctor about my heart racing last weekend.
My hunch was correct as I found out this morning that my dad was trying to help my mom get into the hearing aid doctor's office and accidentally knocked her walker over, breaking my mom's shoulder. My mom was in the hospital and would possibly need surgery. Either way, it would be a long recovery. I was sick to my stomach when I heard the news but not completely surprised. Something inside of me told me this past week that there was a high chance that my mom would end up breaking another bone. She was just so frail and not quite stable on her feet.
I spent the rest of the afternoon talking to my children, explaining what happened and just feeling sad. My parents have had a lot of serious health issues in this past fifteen months. I wish they would have moved to assisted living or at least hired home healthcare, but I realize that this is not their plan. I hope neither one ends up in the nursing home long term, but I know that I cannot do anything about it. I have to take care of my own health so that I can help Doug navigate Parkinson's. It will be a long journey for us, but we have already gotten off to a good start.