"It isn't the 14th?"

    Efforts to get Dad to his heart specialist continue unavailing, and efforts to get him to double-check to make sure he actually has an appointment do, too. You may recall that last time around, it turned out that the doctor's office had called and canceled the appointment, but since robots are used for this job, one or another nonagenarian failed to hear or understand what was said.
    This time, Dad told me he had an appointment today for 3:30. I should have had the sense to check before we left his house, but mine is a trusting soul. When we got there, it turned out that the appointment was for 3, and that it was for the 14th. When I mentioned this to Dad, he said, "It isn't the 14th?" Since his congestive heart failure at the start of the year, he has been recording his weight faithfully after every dialysis session on a calendar the heart doctor gave him. Unfortunately, he lost track of days at some point, so he was up to the 14th today.
    None of this would have been much of a problem except that the weather is awful today, and of course any trip is pretty hard on him, particularly an unnecessary one. Like I said last time, it's no hardship on me, but just on himself.
    It is worrying, though, that someone usually so completely on the ball could be so wrong. But it's not like the end of the world.