80 blood everywhere

I am having the day from hell. It's got an hour to go. I just want to crawl under a rock. But then I'd probably get bitten by something venomous.
This morning my new bird wasn't acting right. I called the vet and they said to bring her in. Halfway there she had a seizure and died. It was horrible. I've only had her 3 weeks but I loved her. She was smart and funny and so attached to me. I cried all morning and part of the afternoon. My birdroom seems so empty without her cage. My other birds hadn't become attached to her yet, thank god, but they were calling this afternoon looking for her which of course made me cry again.
So I went to my parents house for the usual Friday night tea and crumpets (diet pepsi and chocolate chips cookies tonight) and to do a puzzle. I played with the cat, played with the dog (in that order). Someone called my cell phone about my party tomorrow and while I was on the phone my dad decided to introduce the dog to the cat again. Next thing I know, the dog's barking, the cat's yowling, my father's yelling and my mother's screaming. They come running out of my old bedroom and blood is spurting from my father's hand all over the place.
I hang up on the lady and go running into the bathroom. My mother is dabbing at the hand, which is pumping blood everywhere. It's filling the sink, it's all over the counter, it's on the floor, all over the carpet in the hallway. She's yelling 'should I call 911' and I said yes because I don't know what the hell's going on. I grabbed the blood-soaked towel from her and applied direct pressure because that's what we learned in first aid class. Of course the 6-8 minutes it took the ambulance to come seemed to take forever and only a minute at the same time. My father was freaking out, oh jesus oh jesus and trying to explain what he had done with the dog and cat. I finally got him to sit on the toilet with his hand in the bloody sink. I went my mother to my car to get my shoes and a book for the hospital and then finally the ambulance came and said I did such a good job with the direct pressure they had nothing left to do. It was 3 punctures on his right hand, one of them right in an artery.
I cleaned up his hand like the paramedics said. My dad said to them "this girl, she helped me. " and he patted my hand. When I left, he followed me out to my car and I asked if he wanted me to come over tomorrow and clean his hand again and re-bandage it. He asked me for my name and phone number.
I wrote it on a dunkin donuts napkin without trying to explain that I'm his daughter. You'd think me calling him "dad" constantly would clue him in. I wrote my home, work, cell and my husband's cell and said "if you need me call all these numbers until you find me." He looked at the napkin and said "oh, yeah, I know you. This is where you work" and he pointed to the cell phone. I said, no, that's this phone and pulled it out of my cleavage where it lives. But he doesn't understand cell phones.
So this night has 1/2 an hour to go. I can't wait.
Oh, one of my fish died today too. Let this day be over.