Adventure 419: Fracless Day Nine

Hobo Scramble. Hold the Cheese.

It did occur to me that this posting about my Dad may be TMI. It's sensitive, but I've decided the documentation is an effective social media vehicle to keep my siblings informed. Liike all challenging situations: the path is assess, determine, decide. Of course, a person needs help and comfort. Food is comforting. comfort helps, and, in reality, I didn't get this XXX petite body by accident. I eat for all reasons, hunger not even being in the top five. I eat to celebrate, to commiserate,  and to deliberate. I eat idly, often after I've just eaten. I eat randomly, often while I'm fixing something to eat. I eat when I'm nervous, excited, scared, bored and when I'm frustrated. I also eat to enjoy, to celebrate, and to socialize. I eat to indulge. I eat to assuage feelings. I eat for fun. I like to chew. I even eat myself (I'm back to biting my nails). Eating is good. It's comfortable, and obviously, I use it as a stress release. So, it shouldn't surprise anyone that the first thing I did this morning after my usual hot tub soak was to go to Frank's Diner for an early meal. It was good. I also wanted to give Dad time to get up on his own so I could observe what his morning routine was. I'm now sitting in his apartment typing this reflective, partly brainstorming documentation about this current situation. It looks like Dad emptied his own bag this morning. I got him to drink a little juice, a little water, and he took his pills. He hasn't eaten. He's sleeping now. I think the infection and the cold he is getting over have knocked him for a loop. So, before we can proceed with any definitive decision going forward, we have to re-build his "daily living" strength. It's all quite real. At breakfast, I overheard the waitress talking with a couple my age. I gathered the woman's father was in the hospital struggling with some obnoxious infirmity. Curiously, it doesn't provide any solace to know that "my story" while common, isn't unique. They say, "It's Hell to grow old." There seems to be mounting evidence that this is true, but what of that? I've never been much of a "Why me, poor me", person. I'm more of a "What now" person.  I can understand that it's difficult to accept these stages of life as just part of the circle. No matter. My morning horoscope, which I read daily, said this morning: "You might not like sudden changes, but you don't fight it". Eerily, it could be like a song lyric I heard in Boston one year, "That Moses, he was a voodoo sort of guy." Voodoo notwithstanding, the requirements  we face are pretty straight forward. First, help him to regain a normal, or "new normal" daily operating strength. Second, on the next business day schedule his catheter replacement appointments. Third, teach him a solidly clean protocol for emptying his bag. Fourth, begin looking into assisted care facilities as that requirement seems imminent.. I don't have a crystal ball, or God's infinite view, so I don't know when that next stage will come, but come it will. If any of you out there in blog land has any insight, please feel free to give me suggestions. In the meantime, I'm sitting here typing the blog update; the football playoffs are on in the background, and otherwise I'm living the dream because as you all know by now, life is good especially today.

Boot Camp report: fell into the bourbon bottle three times last night; no exercise unless you call agitated pacing, "steps"; ate sushi and cereal for dinner.

 Frank's Diner, a better than average breakfast joint that's run out of an elegantly attired old rail car.

 Ambience is no small part of enjoying a good meal.

The father, resting comfortably.