We just got back from a weekend trip to California to visit my dad. He was in the hospital for about a week and a half because of congestive heart failure and the inability to control his diabetes. He is due to go back into the hospital sometime within the next week or two to get a pacemaker.
There is a lot of concern about this surgery and his health in general. Quite frankly, every time he goes into the hospital, the doctors are surprised when he walks out. It seems he is constantly hovering – 3 steps from the grave, 3 steps from recovery. So far, he has always chosen recovery (to the extent a man with cancer, diabetes, irregular heart beat, and eternal fluid in his lungs can recover).
SchmoopyBaby was in rare form all weekend. Perhaps he was still feeling out of sorts from the two shots he got two days before we left. Perhaps those darn molars are driving him up a wall. Perhaps he was restless and bored from being stuck indoors all day on Saturday while rain came pouring down. Perhaps it was a combination of all of the above. He is entitled to have ‘bad’ days. He is a person and all persons are entitled to have bad days. It is unfortunate that his bad days happened to correspond with what might be the last time he sees his grandfather alive. Of course, every time I visit my father I can’t help think that that might be the last time I see him alive, so maybe I’m being a little overly melodramatic.
It makes me sad that my father takes SchmoopyBaby’s bad days personally, as though they are a reflection of his feelings for his grandfather. They are not. Although certainly SchmoopyBaby has preferences for certain people, for what reason I do not know. My mother, for example, is pretty much SchmoopyBaby’s favorite person in the whole world. Mommy-who? Daddy-who? There’s Grandma!!! It is hard for my father to feel adequately loved and appreciated when he sees SchmoopyBaby’s enthusiasm for his grandmother. Heck, it is hard for me sometimes to feel adequately loved and appreciated when I see my son’s enthusiasm for his grandmother.
Anyway, my quick update is turning, once again, into a long-winded rambling session. I’ll post pictures from the weekend when I get a chance.