Setbacks and progress, both

So, yesterday, we'd learned that Uncle Leroy had a heart attack after we went our separate ways from lunch. We were thinking we'd make it out to the hospital yesterday evening, but information was being shared pretty sporadically, what with hospitals being hospitals, so we made a slightly-more-solid plan to go today.

Got up this morning, both of us feeling heavy-hearted, primarily due to the unknown nature of Uncle Leroy's attack, but also with the added "bonus" of not knowing whether I might need to extend my visit. I told Daddy that we should definitely see Uncle Leroy again in person, no matter where he was, and then we'd see Laurie, too, but mostly, Daddy the former nurse could GET all the deets about the attack, and then translate the sitch to us civilians. He agreed, so we just kept trying to figure out when Laurie would be there, to decide what time we should go. He also said to me "don't take this the wrong way, but I think you should go home on Wednesday". I agreed that, barring some unforeseen negative turn of events, I should go home on Wednesday. But it hurt that after all this time (my whole life), he felt a need to preface that statement with "don't take this the wrong way". He was afraid I'd think he doesn't love me. As if!

So, while we waited for final confirmation from Laurie about timelines, he watched episodes of his shows. One each of Elementary, Lucifer, and NCIS:LA. At some point, he spoke to his brothers, and once Laurie had indicated she was on her way and his last show was done, we gathered some things and left. This was not until almost 3 p.m., so even though we'd had breakfast, we hadn't gone to hit golf balls, nor eaten any lunch, nor made any other plans. I was beginning to feel a bit antsy.

We got to the hospital and parked. Daddy had the energy to walk in the front door, but that's about it. He sat in one of the lobby chairs while I chatted at the information desk. Charles, the volunteer there, found our man and brought over a fancy wheelchair so he could take Daddy up there himself. Nice fella! We found Daddy a chair next to Laurie, who was next to the bed, and I stood for a little bit, facing them. After hugs, we just discussed all the everything. And I took the page I'd colored out and gave it to him. #BecauseHeSaidYesPlease #GuessedOnTheEyeColorAndGotItRightWhew! #AndNowTheresAPageMissingFromMyColoringBook #SadAndHappyToo #INeverHadAPerforatedColoringBookSoIGuessIDidItRight #GladIdAlreadyReadTheLittleStoryOnTheBackOfThatPage

Uncle Leroy had decided, once his symptoms began, that something he'd eaten must have been "off". I decided that, upon our departure from the restaurant, asking him to send our love to Laurie triggered a "got to find a way for them to see her before emelle goes home" response (sure, why not a heart attack?). Daddy decided that it came because he'd paid the lunch bill, instead of letting Uncle Leroy pick it up. ... so, we were all in pretty good spirits, picking on each other, as we do.

Any staff who came in the room were a bit taken aback by the jovial nature of our visit with a man who'd just had a heart attack, for God's sake! How can you be laughing at a serious time like this? but obviously, we are well aware that laughter is the best medicine, and why shouldn't we? I guess most ICU patients don't have medical personnel, retired or otherwise, in their families who come to visit. #SorryNotSorryForOurBehaviour #LaughWithUsOrSuckIt

By the time we left there, Daddy was again drained. So when we got home, he took a "coffee nap" (where you slam a cuppa and then immediately take a nap), and I borrowed a lounge chair from bff neighbors' garage to just get some sun on my belly and back for about :30, after which, I woke Daddy (so he'd sleep tonight).

We ate again, finally, and watched three episodes of Doctor Who (The Doctor's Wife, The Rebel Flesh, and The Almost People). Doctor Who bingeing was something we'd missed yesterday, and today, it was the only part of our "normal" routine we accomplished. But we've agreed, barring unforeseen morning weirdness, we'll treat tomorrow (my last full day here, this trip) as a "normal" day, meaning hitting balls, swimming, Doctor Who, and possibly another golf cart trip in the 'hood, as we do sometimes.

I didn't quite meet my step challenge for the day, but I've bought my last Florida lottery ticket (for awhile, at least), and I'll probably pack for my return when I first awake on Wednesday, since I've promised to bring down all the "spent" linens for him.

I'm bummed that I didn't get to accompany Daddy to the actual golf course. But he assures me he will continue building his strength with activities we've discovered he actually does enjoy. In fact, his "goal" is to be back to his former "normal" by the time bff neighbors return! That's only going to happen if he decides to hear my voice in concert with Bob Mann's... in his head... telling him to get his butt outta that recliner and doing a thing!

Do it, Daddy. Get outta that recliner and go do a thing. All of the rest of you, do it, too. Get yer butts offa the couch and go do a thing! And if you DO do a thing, won't you tell me?