Dad's sweetheart was having leg pains when she went home from visiting him at the hospital Sunday night. She thought she would get better after going to bed, but she got much worse instead. She called her daughter Linda, who took her to the emergency room at Baptist. Due to the holiday, they were desperately understaffed, but eventually got her help. It turned out that she had a hernia in her leg. They gave her painkillers, which made her nauseous, but apparently the pain resolved by itself. ("The hernia came out, and went back in." I don't know what this means either.)
So she's having surgery Wednesday. She has to wait until all the Plavix gets out of her system. I'll be at a dermatologist that morning, having a mole on my face looked at. But I'll probably spend the rest of the morning in the surgical waiting area so I can report back to Dad at the earliest.
Dad is doing OK. As soon as we squared away what their phone numbers are at the hospital, he and Margaret were phoning each other for the balance of the day. I quite enjoyed feeling superfluous. In the TMI department, he got a much, much more attentive nurse, who uh, helped him with all his elimination issues, so he's feeling much better. Today is another dialysis day, so I don't get to see him until the afternoon. Hopefully, he'll feel better still.
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