Oy.

Well he's in a section of the hospital I haven't visited before (I know that building like the back of my hand. Speaking of the back of my hand - whoa! An AGE spot. And a patch of really wrinkly skin. When did that happen?) ... Actute Care for the Elderly.
Elderly.
If he was more alert and if he knew what the term elderly meant, he'd be mortified.
So it's a good thing he's oblivious.

He's very calm, he's at peace and he's bored silly.
I was there for all of 2 minutes when he asked me to put the Green Stone (Romancing the Stone) movie on for him.
Which I gladly did, but first I had to drive over to their house to pick up the portable DVD player and the DVD. And his personal grooming stuff. And some borscht. And an extension cord.

Then drive back to the hospital. During the 5 pm Surrey rush hour.

Anyway, he is weak. And his brain cells took a hit, what with the whole potatsium overdose thing. But he looks good, knew who I was, (and who Art and Anne were), ate a full serving of soup and is looking forward to going home once they sort out his meds.

He could be in for awhile though ... his doctor wants to make sure mom has recuperated enough from her surgery before sending dad home. Because everytime dad has a miraculous recovery? His heart and head slow down, causing him to require more and more care.

Getting old sucks.






Know what that is?
Yup.
84 months of upcoming bad luck.

My mirror? She is broke.
Just like the windshield in my truck.



I'm a little bit tempted to write out the list of all the things that are broken 'round here.
But that might be interpreted as whining for help.
And that's not why I'd do it. I just thought you might be interested.

Three things I'm thankful for:

1. The gals I work with:


2. The boys I live with.
3. The parents I visit.

Shalom,