Made it to Hampton, Virginia. Dead beat and plum tuckered out, as Husband would say. It's nearly 10 p.m. East Coast time..but wait, that's only 8 p.m. my time! Why am I so pooped?
I'll tell you why...it has a lot to do with not sleeping much. And when I do, it's not quality sleep. Bad nightmares, weird reruns of inconsequential things...and if they're not strange enough, I just make up stuff to worry about.
Dad is hanging in there. He's back home, and his hospital bed has been set up in the living room, where he can watch tv if he likes (thankfully, we got them cable for Christmas), or meet with visitors. He's had a lot of them in the past day. They only stay a few minutes. (Also thankfully)
The hospice nurse told Mom to tell me that she didn't think Dad would make it until Monday night. One factor, nurse said, was that Dad's knees were cold, and his legs above and below were hot -- a sign that his body was starting to break down. (I'm not commenting on this...I have no idea...it's what the nurse said.)
However, he went and sat at the table for supper tonight, and also spent some time sitting in his chair. He seems more coherent, though he does sleep a lot. (I can't talk to him on the phone again -- not a good sign.)
So instead of taking the train Sunday, I'll fly back either late Saturday night or really early on Sunday.
God willing, it will work.
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