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For the longest time, I didn't post because I didn't have anything to say. My hip was unchanged. My life was stuck. I didn't want to hear myself whine.
For the past month, I haven't posted because I've been busy: my father got very sick in the span of ten days. He landed in intensive care and I took the next plane to DC. He was in the hospital for three weeks, during which time my mother and I were either at the hospital or sleeping, and sometimes both.
Now he's home and getting antibiotics three times a day through an IV. We take very short walks in the early spring sunshine. We talk about skiing dreams and the evils of condo developers and whether the Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction" has a more iconic opening guitar lick than "Gimme Shelter." He is slowly, slowly getting better.
I haven't really processed that I nearly lost him.
But I didn't.
For the past month, I haven't posted because I've been busy: my father got very sick in the span of ten days. He landed in intensive care and I took the next plane to DC. He was in the hospital for three weeks, during which time my mother and I were either at the hospital or sleeping, and sometimes both.
Now he's home and getting antibiotics three times a day through an IV. We take very short walks in the early spring sunshine. We talk about skiing dreams and the evils of condo developers and whether the Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction" has a more iconic opening guitar lick than "Gimme Shelter." He is slowly, slowly getting better.
I haven't really processed that I nearly lost him.
But I didn't.