Or so I hope. I got the call last night that Dad was already in the stepdown ICU (which is such a less alarming name than the double ICU, which they also call it). He was having trouble remembering Margaret's number, so they called me to get it and I was glad to help. He had the king-hell day of all days yesterday, having surgery in the morning, dialysis all afternoon, and then being moved to a new room in the evening. I haven't talked to him but my sister did and said he seemed more than a little frazzled. I would say that that's pretty reasonable.
I'm trapped in Olympia by football and fair traffic. I know fair traffic will be minimal in the morning, so I'll check in on him then. But I probably won't be much help taking Margaret to see him before Monday. With any kind of luck, he'll be back to Lowman Home by then, or maybe Tuesday. Oddly, they haven't been in touch at all about Dad's room, his stuff or anything. They had some rooms free, so maybe there's no pressure. Well, we'll see.
In another realm, the outside kitty worked himself free from another jinglebell breakaway collar and wasn't falling for having a new one put on him. So I waited until he was sleepy and snuck up behind him. Getting the "dirty cheater" stink-eye, too!
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