The cable at Margaret's house was working only minimally. That is, the NBC affiliate would come in, but you couldn't change the channel. The remotes were both working in that they would change the volume, but the channel changer wouldn't respond, nor would the buttons on the cable box itself. At the time I dropped Dad home from dialysis, there was a flash flood advisory out, so I really really wanted to get home. However, an hour later, when the advisory had passed, he called and asked me to plug up the cable box and I was very glad to go do it.
He had been trying to do it himself but couldn't. However, he apparently had gotten all the way on the floor to try, and then back up again. I am damn impressed! It was just a matter of reconnecting the power supply (which plugs in only one way, and he was trying the opposite way) and the Out cable. And it rebooted. I was glad (and I said so) that what was needed was within my limited skillset.
Coincidentally, I had a dream last night where I had Dad's condition pretty accurately reflected. I was in one of those gigantic dormitories that my dream world so often is confined to, and Dad REALLY wanted to deliver something to one of the rooms. The only highly inaccurate aspect was that he was leading the way all the way. I was worrying that there might not be anywhere for him to sit and catch his breath when he made his delivering and wondering if anybody around there had a wheelchair. Anyway, I feel like it's a good sign that I'm starting to cope that I'm dreaming his condition more or less accurately. Or I hope so.
I didn't really have a blog entry and was trying to get to the page where I post them anyway and I couldn't. It just wouldn't load until the third or fourth try. And I was getting really anxious, even though as I say I didn't have all that much to say anyway. I guess I'm getting a little attached to this old weblog.
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