I got a call this morning from one of Dad's nurses that his drain had fallen out and so they were sending him back to Baptist Hospital to get it hooked up again. This is not the same as before; it didn't fail, but just fell out. There's no surgery involved this time. She thought that he would be back there this evening.
Assuming all this turns out to be the case, I'm relaxed about it. Compared to the alternatives, I'm practically giddy about it. I'm sorry Margaret and I don't get to visit today. Hopefully, next time we'll remember the way. I think I forgot to mention that we park in a new place, that it's a bit of a hike to his room, and it's fairly easy to get confused, though hard to get too lost. The sight lines are good, I mean.
It is a little nerve-wracking waiting to hear anything, and not knowing. Is the hospital going to keep him? Is he getting food? Will he be back in time for dialysis tomorrow? I'm optimistic and hope for the best, but I'd rather know than wonder.
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