Meep Meep!

You ever watch a Road Runner cartoon, where Wile. E. Coyote (is he related to Wil. I. Am, by the way? Just a thought) set a trap with an ACME anvil, and then would end up running off the edge of a cliff, and would have time to look down and realise his fate, then would plummet with cartoon over-compensation to the ground, landing with just his head above ground. Then, from nowhere, there'd be a whistling sound and he'd look up, and see the inevitable anvil hurtling down to embed itself - Ker-chunk! - in his head, and there'd be that look of "Why me?" on his long, goofy face. And once he'd plummeted to the ground, and taken an anvil to the head, and couldn't move a muscle, that evil, gloating bastard of a Road Runner would speed up, come to a dead stop, waggle its tongue at the helpless, semi-conscious coyote, go "Meep Meep!" and fuck off to pastures new.

This has been a Wile. E. Coyote kinda day.

Dad was great when we saw him yesterday - engaged, with a good colour, eating and drinking and following conversations. There was even some of his old dry grin.

Ma got there this afternoon for the 3 o'clock visiting session, only to be told something had happened in the night. Dad's heart rate had spiked to 199 bpm.

Lemme just put that into some kinda context. I'm 40. I've undertaken a year and a half of weight loss. I have biked, and run, and rowed, and swum, and spun dammit. I've never achieved a heart rate of 199 bpm. He was a 69 year old man, laying in a bed, clocking those kinds of numbers.

Oddly enough, no-one seems concerned about this except us. They didn't bring in cardiology, they didn't call any of us, nothing.
Now, today, he's back to being drained and exhausted, and he can't eat or drink anything, because he's both nauseated and barely conscious for two sentences.
"Why did no-one call us?" we asked the nurses on the desk.
"Ohhh...we sorted it. His heart's down to 114 now," they said. Average heart rate - 80 bpm...you can do the math on that, right? We looked down to see the cliff had ended three seconds before.
"Why did no-one from coronary care come and see him?"
They shrugged.
We plummeted to the ground and weighted for the inevitable anvil.
"Can we get a doctor to check him over?" we asked.
"Doctor's just gone off shift," they said. "If we think he needs seeing to, we'll put him right...honest."
Meep...freakin'...Meep!