Not only did my husband have unforeseen open-heart surgery, two months to the day later, my father wound up in the emergency department. He had surgery the same day. There aren't many circumstances where a ninety-year-old gets surgery, unless it's operate or die, so his condition was grave. He made it through the surgery, but the next morning, the surgeon was not, shall we say, optimistic.
Just to really up the tension during this crisis (something this writer much prefers in her fiction, not in real life), two of my siblings were out of the country.
Fortunately, my parents apparently exist to confound the medical profession. The surgeon later admitted the odds of Dad even getting out of ICU were about 10,000 to 1. Not only did he get out of ICU, he's home and doing well, all things considered.
So this summer has been quite the emotional roller-coaster for me and my family. However, it seems the worst is over, at least for now, so I can relax enough to enjoy the summer, at least for a bit.