Talisman

I’ve been carrying my dad’s watch in my pocket since the morning I picked it up off the dining room table right after the ambulance took him away.

I figured if it’s still running, he can’t be out of time.

Logic that defies logic, I know. But there ya go.

I’ve noticed that aside from the people in scrubs or the very pregnant women (and their nervous-looking partners), most people in hospitals seem to have an unkempt, sort of greyish pallor. Like they’re wearing their most comfortable clothes and unconcerned about their hair, or any aspect of their appearance in general. It’s kind of desperate and sad.

He has pneumonia again. Last time, it was apparently “just” a pneumonitis, now it’s a full-blown pneumonia. Feh. His left lung looks like complete crap on the x-ray (a total white-out), and his hematocrit is low. Really low. No one can figure out why. He got 2 units of blood today and that perked him right up, but even that is a relative term. He’s exhausted by the simplest things.

He can’t even go to the bathroom yet—we’re still on urinals and bedpans. When I asked, the doctor this morning said it would be at LEAST a week before he comes home. I’m thinking longer.

Tonight marks the 3 week point.

This is NOT how I envisioned spending a month with my dad.