Most of you have talked with either Dad or me about his surgery, and you know it went pretty well, at least the surgery part of it. He was in the recovery room for several hours because his breathing was "depressed" (dangerously low, one doctor inadvertently let out), and then they sent him to the ICU for the night. I was there with him, and I slept in the recliner. It was very comfortable. The nurses were in and out every hour or two checking all his vitals, and they said he was the healthiest person in the ICU. I asked one nurse if people died there, and she said "all the time." It was very sobering. They kept Dad until Thursday afternoon, and released him from there. They gave us a sheaf of papers to read, but not much information about the real issues, like a run-down on all his medications, instructions for keeping the incision dry, what number to call if there is trouble, etc. We’ve made out OK. He had a lot of nausea yesterday, but is doing a little better today. He makes himself get up and walk around every hour or so, and I’m sure that’s helping him a lot. He has a catheter and a bag, so don’t be grossed out if you come to see him. The contents of the bag are the same color as the crystal lite fruit punch I used to like so much. I’ll never drink it again.
Otherwise, things are going well here. The cats are doing OK without Dad’s constant attention, but they’re letting me know they aren’t happy. He usually brings them milk at 6:00 am, and he’s not able to do it now, but I did take them his uneaten cereal this morning. Oreo brings in lots of dead mice, presumably for Dad’s nourishment. He’s been getting a lot of big ones this spring. Tom says it wasn’t cold enough for them to die off over the winter. I found one mouse eating his way through our basement screen, so I caught him in my hand and carried him out to the field across the street. He wasn’t big enough for Oreo to bother with yet.
I hope you’re all doin’ great and lovin’ it. We are.