Baby steps

We had some good news yesterday. Dad got to eat some real food.

Food is a big deal in our family. And my Dad is the king of "when is our next meal". So to say that he was excited to get some real food is the understatement of the millenium.

I don't think chicken noodle soup or vanilla ice cream ever tasted so damn good. By the time I left yesterday, he had also eaten some cream of chicken soup, another bit of ice cream, and some chocolate pudding. Can you tell he has a sweet tooth?

The pneumonia is still kicking his ass, but the pulmonary specialist was there bright and early yesterday and ordered a CAT scan of his lungs and new breathing treatments. After one breathing treatment we noticed improvement, and he had his second one around 8:30 last night and my sister called and said he'd coughed up a ton of crap out of his lungs and was breathing much, much better. Thank God.

Blood pressure is still a little on the high side but better. Pulse still running too high at times. Intestines are back in working order.

I helped two of the nurses get Dad up to use the toilet yesterday and it took every ounce of strength I had to hold him up and not slump off the toilet. I know he was humiliated by the whole thing, because he's a very private person and I don't think I have ever seen him in just his underwear. Well, so far I've gotten the peep show quite often and he gets all embarrassed. Finally, the other day, I whispered to him, "Dad, I hate to break it to you like this, but yours is not the first penis I've ever seen..." Not sure if that helped, but it did provide a little humor. Not to mention I guess at 36 years old it was time for me to break that news to him.

Today, if he's doing better, I'm running home for a few days. I've got to get FMLA lined up with my office, need some clean clothes, and need to see Monkey Man. I can't tell you how much I've missed that kid. And of course, Joey. And even that stinky-ass dog, Rufus.

Twelve days. Twelve days.