So a week ago, my father went to the doctor for a foot infection - and ended up in the hospital. As his primary care-taker I was glad the foot would be getting better, because well, honestly, I have this phobia of old man feet. If he were a horse, I could handle it.
Lots of IV antibotics, Dear Old Dad (DOD) is looking better. Ready to go home.
They have to put a line in so he can get IV treatment later and take him off his blood thinner.
That night, just before he goes him in the morning, he fell. We think. He doesn't remember, and no one saw it happen, but he's got a bit bump on his head.
He ends up in intensive care, with a bleed on the brain.
The neurosurgeon comes in and wants him evaluated for a bunch of things that make sense.
His balance is terrible. And he's getting more forgetful.
So what does this have to do with my office?
Well, ONCE I can get back to working on it, finish it and get to work in it... I'll have to set up a monitoring system to keep an ear out for him, so he doesn't fall or something when we're home alone.
somehow... I am trying to find the ironic humor in this.
If you see it, please let me know.
More on the shed later.
I MISS IT!!!
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