Dad is not doing colossally better, but he's doing better. Unfortunately, his feet still aren't shrinking back to normal, so dialysis is still pretty rough on him. He tends to have low blood pressure at the end of every session, making him weak and very very soft-spoken.
However, he still gets around well by himself. He hasn't needed a wheelchair except for the once, some weeks ago. His burping has yet to go away, darn it, but he is eating all his meals now. I haven't asked, but I'm pretty sure he's also sleeping better.
Moreover, although the dialysis facility's social worker never called me back, it's clear that she called somebody. Representatives from the facility's recommended home health care provider came around to talk to Dad and Margaret. Margaret said that she thought it sounded like a good idea. So although I don't know specifically what help they're contemplating providing, it strikes me as a particularly bright sign. I feel stirrings of hope for the first time in forever.
Glad you are feeling hopeful, John. Your dad is so blessed to have a son that loves him like you do.
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