I just returned from the hospital where my father was admitted overnight for observation. He's fine.

I'm a little upset at my sisters for alarming me with semi-hysterical reports of his declining health.

He's been experiencing shortness of breath and swollen legs recently, so he decided to have the doctor check him out. So my sister took him to the doctor's office. Everything looked normal, but it was decided some tests should be run--blood, Xrays, EKG, etc.

So when I get this call from sister at the hospital, I'm thinking he's dying. He was admitted for tests and observation. After some over-the-phone questions, I felt assured he was okay, just resting and sleeping. So I waited to go see him until this morning. He was sitting up in his hospital bed, chippy as ever, like why all the fuss? They had yet to inform him of yesterday's test results and planned a few more today.

I feel confident he'll be home later today or tomorrow. He's a tough old bird. I wonder if he ever told his daughters the story of the boy who cried wolf?