My dad looked sooo much better yesterday. He looks stronger. He's talking now. I mean, not talking normally - through the hole in his throat, but still. He can talk.
I hadn't seen him since Friday evening, and the change was dramatic. And so positive.
His surgery is scheduled for first thing tomorrow morning. And actually, I think it's a good thing it got delayed. He's stronger now, more positive. Friday was awful.
On Friday night my mom called. She said she was going back to the hospital, because my dad was refusing to let them put the new tube in his nose.
I offered to drive out, but she said she'd call if she needed me. I wanted to take a sleeping pill and knock myself out, but I also needed to be alert for driving. So I just waited, on the verge of hysteria.
I was just so upset and needed to be talked down. I called my dear friend Jane, who lives in LA (and who will be visiting this weekend - yay!). Her family and mine are incredibly close. She knows my dad well.
I told her about the feeding tube and that Betty was on her way out to the hospital.
I said, "Does he think for one second we're going to let him starve?"
"He's not thinking clearly right now, Lis."
I wailed, "Is he out of his fucking mind???"
And then we started to laugh. We laughed so hard. And we both kept saying, "It's not funny." But laughing just felt so good.
It turns out that my dad hadn't understood why they wanted to put the new tube in. Betty got out there, steeling herself for a struggle, but outwardly very calm.
She told me she said, "Sweetheart, do you know why they want to put the other tube in your nose?"
My dad shook his head.
"They just want to make you more comfortable. The other one was getting uncomfortable."
And my dad said, "Oh. OK. Go ahead."
And that was that.