Last day of class

Well it's over, all but the exam. Tomorrow is the last day of the semester. I will miss my very fine writer and several other extremely extremely bright students. All who stuck with it have improved, some a lot.
When I came home, ready to prepare the final for tomorrow and grade and comment on last minute homework, I was greeted by hysterical cats, frantic to be fed, my cellphone, home charging on the counter, beeping in its annoying way, full of urgent messages, and my son, starving, asking what was for dinner. Then my dad called, telling me that the pain the nurses at the Center had apparently been calling me all day about was not so bad after all. They even called the secretary in the English Department and my husband at work. None of them got hold of me, so when I came home, it all unloaded on me at once.
The nurse at the Center apparently told my dad that she suspected he might have fractured a rib when he fell in the bathroom a few days ago. But I don't think so. He isn't having trouble breathing, and he often complains (sometimes a lot) when I drive over bumps. That's what started this whole thing, the access bus driving over bumps. Add to this the fact that the nurse at the Center sometimes has given my dad dubious medical information in the past.
All the same, I called the doctor's office and asked what I should do. They're going to call me back tomorrow and tell me whether they think I should take him in to the ER for an x-ray.