My brother just called from the hospital and said, "Lis, I've got some bad news."
My heart dropped into my stomach.
"The handsome Dr. Garg has a baby. Which means he has a wife. Dad, however, is fine."
"Find out if he has brothers and if they're single."
I spent a good chunk of yesterday with my dad, and he was in decent humor. The physical therapist was with him, and was getting him to stand up and sit in a chair. So he's stronger.
Then last night Betty was with him and he was belligerent. Exhausting to deal with, but true to form. We know his whole personality is still there.
My brother just said that according to the X-rays, the doctor thinks the swallow test will go well, and they could have the tube out in the next couple days and he can start eating.
Everyone who sees him says that he's doing incredibly well. They're astounded at how quickly he's recovering.
I'm astounded. This man is 70. He's done himself no favors, to put it mildly, over the years. And he's strong.
When my dad wants to be charming, he can dazzle you. He's so incredibly bright. He's delightfully sparkly and charismatic. His nurses love him.
They were talking about how well he's doing, and he said to my brother, "I'm a star."
And my brother said, "Dad, I hate your show. I hate the drama. It's tragic and scary and I want out of it. I'm done with this show. We can't do this anymore."
And it's true. We can't do this anymore. It's killing my mom, and she's the strongest, most positive, shiny sunflower I know. She's bright and happy and bends and bends. But this time, she seems like she might break.
This time has to be different. Once we get past the medical part, we need to make sure it's different. We need to change the channel. We need a new show.