Back At Dad's

Okay so I'm back at Dad's after spending Friday and Saturday night at my house on S. 54th. I really wanted to stay there tonight too watching Scifi and stuffing my gut with bon bons until my eyes drop. Hmmm...good times. But, I know he doesn't feel comfortable staying by himself at night. Seems like under the guise of darkness is historically when the bad stuff happens. Dad didn't actually say that, but in the past, that's when his blood sugar falls below the danger line leaving him far too close to a diabetic coma. Last week I came downstairs at around 1:00 a.m. and he was on the floor behind the kitchen table confused and unable to get up. Blood sugar had dropped. Night falls, and we're on watch duty.

I think he had a good weekend. Tamara and Desiree spent Friday night with him. They ate pizza, and had a mini birthday party with cake to celebrate Desi's upcoming birthday. Jean spent the night on Saturday and organized all of his meds into a nice handy dandy little container, and today Debbie made him some barbecue and black eyed peas, which he admitted to tasting really good. Which, I have to add, suspiciously sounded like a compliment. Big surprise. You don't understand, dad is the King of negativity and finds something wrong with all of our efforts to cook. Debbie cooks food that is way too healthy, he complains. And with him having heart disease, diabetes, issues with his kidneys, and only God knows what else, how dare she? My cooking consist of tossing something in the microwave, pushing some buttons, and arranging everything nicely on a plate. But I think he thinks I'm trying to kill him with sodium. He makes himself bacon for breakfast and eats Twinkies or cupcakes for lunch when I'm at work during the day, and complains I'm giving him foods high in sodium. O-kaay. But today, all seems to have gotten a seal of approval. Bravo Debbie! "The black eyed peas and barbecue were pretty good," he said as I was fussing around in the kitchen. I almost dropped the glass I was drinking from. Shock, I think, so again, it looks like he had an enjoyable time with his family. After having far too many bad days, good days are always a blessing.

A few minutes ago he was trying to get me to join him in watching the History channel and going on about the prostitutes on Pearl Harbor prior to the bombing I think, and how some military top dog initiated some rules the hookers were supposed to follow, and if he couldn't have everything his way, dad rambled on, he (he being the top dog) didn't want it any way at all. Hmmm...I came in at the end of the show, and so as usual was having problems following dad's recap.

As I'm typing away, Dad slowly makes his way to the family room to settle down for the night. He sleeps in his recliner. Since he got out of the hospital he seems to be having some difficulty making it up the stairs to his room. A minor setback. He'll get stronger.

Well, I think I'll go up to my usual room at the top of the stairs. He'll call me on my cell if he needs anything. Ciao.