I went to see dad yesterday. I ended up there 45 minutes before I could go in, so fortunately the psychiatrist sat down with me for a bit.
He says he’s considering letting dad out. Still no affirmative answer though.
My father was griping about how cold it was again, yet he refuses to use the ten blankets they’ve provided. He’s animated now. That’s better. He’s walking. However he cried a lot.
He cried because the nurse had farm fresh eggs and they were beautiful. He cried because a pastor that’s a patient is leaving. My father doesn’t believe in God at the current moment, so I found that odd. He cried because Lauren Bacall is dead, and she was so so pretty. Random. Random.
They announced that dinner was ready. Since he’s a fall hazard, he can’t pick up his food tray. He pushed that damn call button literally five seconds after the announcement to ask where his food was.
So here I am wondering what he is going to be like when I bring him home. I better get my bathroom vanity painted because I’m about to go into the deep waters again.