Getting out of the ICU was a lot less exciting than I’d hoped. I wanted confetti and horns, but we just put my dad in a wheel chair, grabbed all his stuff, and rolled on down the hall.
Dad and the Butcher played cribbage and I worked on the TCP afghan, which is going to be pretty neat, I think. I need to take pictures, I guess.
My mom insists on kissing everyone and I’m about over that, I must say. As much as I love smooches, I hate kisses from family members. I have issues, I guess.
Speaking of family members, after his mid-day medication, my dad started babbling on about Mack and saying that he half expected Mack to show up claiming to be his husband. Then he started to ponder whether he could pass Mack off as his dad, since they both have brown eyes.
The Butcher was all, “But Mack looks a lot younger than you.” and my dad was all “That’s because I wouldn’t eat my vegetables like he told me to when I was a kid.”
That made me laugh hard then and laugh again to tell you about it. I guess it’s not polite to make fun of a person for the silly things he says when he’s high, but I still am going to let you all laugh about it, too.
We have to learn how to help him up and into chairs and out of bed and into bed and onto the toilet and stuff before he gets to come home, and frankly, I’m a little nervous about that, but excited for him to get out of there, as well.
The hospital is full of sick people and he isn’t sick, so I’d like to get him out of there before he is.
His nurse thinks that he’ll be home on Friday, no problem.
Let’s keep our fingers crossed.