Dad's been diagnosed with pneumonia. Again. Saddam Hussein was still in power the first time. Dad spent weeks, then months in various intensive cares. The docs said, "Call the family" as shock and awe ensued. I drove across the mountains to say goodbye for the tenth time while oil slicks burned on the Euphrates. Since then, Dad has been in a holding pattern, low on fuel and out of contact with the tower. He's been contemplating his slippers and wondering where his cigarettes are for years now. The nurses wheel him out on the hour, so he can set fire to his lap when he forgets what was going on after the third puff. I sooooooo don't want this to be my future. If the doctor ever looks at me and says "Alzheimer's", I'm getting so gawddamn drunk and paddling a kayak to Japan.
3 comments:
I'd like to buy you your first drink as you set off. . . .and make you a sack lunch before you head to Japan.
Had the same thoughts these last few days...Dad's dying...again. Your eloquence trumps my selfish internal scramble for when would be the best time in MY life to fly up for a funeral...Ahhh, life.
Luv, SIS
hey k-so so sorry to hear about your dad. must be rough. you are lucky to be somewhat close. my mom is is in chicago. my dad is in north carolina. but i just found out he's moving to redding(maybe 3 hours from me) the lord told him too-uh-gee maybe 3 hours is a little close. did i just say that? oh well-what can ya do?
hang in there and thinking of you.
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