So, Dad is back in the hospital again. 6 weeks after his major double bypass – – he was having chest pain. Mom took him to the ER where they did an EKG that they found questionable, so they decided to keep him overnight for observation. This morning, they did a cardiac stress test and found that one of his arteries had blockage and scheduled him for an immediate angioplasty.
They finished up with that about 30 minutes ago and he’s doing fine. The cardiologist said that he should actually do much better now and that this won’t impede his recovery at all. I surely hope that is the case.
Melissa, my daughter, has her promotion ceremony tomorrow night. She’s finally finished with 8th grade and will be entering high school in September. I just spoke with Dad – – and even in his drugged up, Demerol induced state – – he started telling me how horrible he feels that he won’t be able to make it to her ceremony.
I assured him that Melissa understands – – and all she really cares about is that her Grandpa gets better. He’s coming home from the hospital tomorrow and I promised him that we would come over before her ceremony so he can see her all dressed up in her promotion finery.
His reply? Ha – – well, understand that he is looped up on Demerol during this phone conversation – – he says . . .
“I would really like that. You’re not sending her on a trip to Aruba, are you?” he says.
I say, “Umm.. No, Dad – we barely let her out of her room these days without supervision, ya know?”
He says, “I know, but if I find out that you’re sending her to Aruba – I just want you to know I won’t let her go.”
“I appreciate that, Dad – you don’t have to worry about it, and after the Demerol wears off – this will all be a dream,” I say.
“Ok. Good” he says.