Anyway, he gets to go to a real cardiologist tomorrow for a look-see. I'm fairly sure he'll be mostly fine; my guess is that at least half of his symptoms are psychosomatic, related to the trauma of his wrist injury. But I am very glad that he thought to give me a call and tell me about it anyway. He's still trainable.
I'm going home (I haven't actually lived with my parents since 1999, but I still think of it as "going home") on Sunday for a little vacation, so I'm sure I'll hear all about it then. Of course, the climax of this vacation will be my cousin Marcia's wedding, lasting an entire weekend, involving two large families, at least three parties, two bridal gowns, one completely commandeered inn in Vermont, and more planning than the invasion of Normandy. More stress for Dad Pony, yay!
So, as usual, I'll be the one who's cool and collected. I've been fiendishly making jams and jellies these past three weekends, so I can bring my mom a jar of blackberry jam and my dad a jar of apple cider jelly, which will reduce his stress considerably. And I'll get to escape to New York for a day or so to see my best friend, who is having one of his plays performed at the Fringe festival.