Breathing again

My dad is off the respirator! Hallelujah. He is almost his old self – a little slow speaking due to swollen vocal cords from that blasted respirator tube – but otherwise healing beautifully. He’s sitting up in a chair, and physio has begun. The road to recovery! He still has pneumonia and his kidneys are not up to par, which means he may stay in the ICU if his lungs don’t clear soon, but generally is hugely better.

On another more annoying note, I got rear-ended last evening on my way home, and was sandwiched between two cars. Of the three of us, my car was the only one with any damage. The woman behind me lost her little VW hood ornament, and the guy in front didn’t even have a scratch – it was his tire holder thingy that munched in my front hood. So now the round of police reports, insurance and autobody has to begin. Most annoying. On top of the hospital, and having a friend over to stay who had just had surgery, it’s been a grueling week.

S. and I are going for a much-needed dinner - without Samuel. Speaking of which, he’s an absolute jewel. He’s into boisterous bouncing in his exer-saucer and loves playing patty-cake. Every day he becomes more responsive and expressive of his opinions and preferences. He started pablum a week ago, and I’m thinking he could probably easily chow down double the amount I feed him, but I’m afraid of constipating him. It’s all about input and output these days.