One really nice thing to happen from this unfolding personal tragedy -- I'm not trying to be ironic or anything, but there really are good things that spring from bad things -- is that I'm no longer afraid of hospitals. I don't hate being in them. I have logged many hours at Methodist Hospital now, so many that I saw a number of familiar faces in the cafeteria a couple of days ago. That's the lady who takes Dad's lunch order ... the person from radiology ... the chaplain ... the PCA (whatever that means, a nursing aide).
The hospital is a happening place! Lots of life-changing stuff going on here. Lots of truly caring people helping others, from all the nurses to the doctors and aides. I feel a lot of compassion for them all, and for the people who, like my Dad, don't want to be here but have no choice in the matter. Their families and they have been sucked into a vortex and here they are, in a whole different reality from their everyday lives.
Another good thing is that Dad's Chinese wife is learning to become more independent. She is having to find her own way now, in many ways. She takes her citizenship exam next week, and I will be going with her.
I'm typing this on the hospital computer while they wash Dad's bedsores. Gotta go back to see him now.
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