I'd been doing at least one post a month, but there went June, with narry a post. Go figure.
My dad had a stroke on June 2. He was doing okay until his second day in the hospital when the DTs set in (they neglected to put him on a bourbon drip for some reason) which put him in intensive care for two weeks. I've been a bit scattered what with going up to see him and coming back and trying to be in my life with job and moving and all that fun shit.
Oh yeah, I'm moving. Roomie is going off to grad school next month and I just can't swing the HUGE apartment on my own and am too old and set in my ways to get a new roommate. But as luck would have it, a smaller two bedroom opened up downstairs and the landlord offered it to me first. This not only saves me the moving expenses and coming up with first/last/deposit/fee/anything else we can stick you for, but also saves me the credit check, which I'm sure I would never pass. But I've been here for the past 6 years, am a good tennant, and he seems happy to keep me. Whew! And what an easy move! I cn just shove my bed down the stairs and drag it the 50 feet to the door of the new place!
Dad is out of the hospital now (back to that drama for a moment) and is in an accute rehab facility learning how to walk again with a cane. He's finally back on solid foods too and is eating up a storm. And he's back to his old self, which is not really the best place (at least not if you're one of his children and get to see how much of a selfish jerk he can be), but I suppose it's a good thing. He's breathing on his own. He's conscious. Hell, he can even walk with a can and someone helping to balance him. But emotionally, he's still a rebellious teen, something I'd hoped the stroke would help him outgrow.
My dad had a stroke on June 2. He was doing okay until his second day in the hospital when the DTs set in (they neglected to put him on a bourbon drip for some reason) which put him in intensive care for two weeks. I've been a bit scattered what with going up to see him and coming back and trying to be in my life with job and moving and all that fun shit.
Oh yeah, I'm moving. Roomie is going off to grad school next month and I just can't swing the HUGE apartment on my own and am too old and set in my ways to get a new roommate. But as luck would have it, a smaller two bedroom opened up downstairs and the landlord offered it to me first. This not only saves me the moving expenses and coming up with first/last/deposit/fee/anything else we can stick you for, but also saves me the credit check, which I'm sure I would never pass. But I've been here for the past 6 years, am a good tennant, and he seems happy to keep me. Whew! And what an easy move! I cn just shove my bed down the stairs and drag it the 50 feet to the door of the new place!
Dad is out of the hospital now (back to that drama for a moment) and is in an accute rehab facility learning how to walk again with a cane. He's finally back on solid foods too and is eating up a storm. And he's back to his old self, which is not really the best place (at least not if you're one of his children and get to see how much of a selfish jerk he can be), but I suppose it's a good thing. He's breathing on his own. He's conscious. Hell, he can even walk with a can and someone helping to balance him. But emotionally, he's still a rebellious teen, something I'd hoped the stroke would help him outgrow.
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