The dialysis facility called this morning to ask if I could bring Dad at 7 tomorrow morning. The above was my answer, though I wasn't rude or curt or loud about it and I'm pretty sure she could hear the smile in my voice. I explained that he had quite enough trouble getting up and ready for his normal time (11:30). If he could do it, it would be really great, though, because the weather is getting insanely hot and it would be nice to get this out of the way before the truly infernal stuff starts. But I just don't see it.
I had a very pleasant walk today on the Lake Weston Loop Trail at Congaree National Park, and an even more pleasant return to civilization to find that there were no alarming messages on my voicemail. It's getting to the point where I'm very, very polite to wrong number callers just because I'm so relieved that it isn't a call telling me that something terrible has happened. I probably should train my friends to call my cell phone more often so I'll stop dreading every ring.
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