Visiting

Spent the evening with my dad. It’s been about three weeks since the strokes (final count seems to be three -- the third having been the largest.) He’s actually doing extremely well, I think. Physically he is fine and his personality is just the same. The only thing I notice is that he seems a little “sleepy.” He could truly be sleepy, however. He’s on a lot of medicine and they’ve given him a mask -- which he hates -- to wear while in bed to correct his sleep apnea. Sleep apnea is, apparently, very dangerous, even more so if you are at risk for stroke. And he says he’s having a bit of trouble mechanically. When he tried to find a particular object recently, he couldn’t even though he knew exactly where it was. He asked someone where to find it and it was, indeed, exactly where it was supposed to be. I told him this could get better in time. It hasn’t been very long and he is still healing. It bothers him, though.

George said to Dad, “How old are you? 53?” And Dad said, “Yeah, I’ll be 53 my birthday if I last that long.” I said, “What do you mean?” He said,” They’re not letting me have any beer, you know.”