Trip excitement is mounting:
- Went to the post office today and there was another media release thingy from OMGESSEN! — it really is close now.
- Seven days to go – I am really counting down now.
- News of the X deck is leaking out – the cards are in print, and I’ve been working on the rules for 2 days now. Hope other people enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them I’m working on ways to get at least one card signed by all of the design team – so far, my cunning plan involves OMGESSEN!, the DC Gamers and BGGcon.
- The OMGESSEN! surprises haven’t finished yet, though. There are at least 2 more on the way. Hee.
- Did I mention I will have special L-deck autograph cards to sign? Yeah? Let me mention it again. What a giggle. What a sweetie Hanno is to get them printed. And what a sweetie he will be when he has to store all the unused ones after OMGESSEN! is over
- Choosing a hotel is So Much Easier when you know someone local who can do your legwork for you. So far, my peeps have checked out internet access, warned me that the inside of one hotel looks like a bordello (all red velvet and chandeliers – I am almost tempted to stay there just for the giggles), recommended a slightly unusual but very cheap hotel and – most importantly – recommended a breakfast buffet.
- I *think* I have finished all the work stuff I need to do before I leave. Well, except for one thing. That means from now on it is spoiling my kids and packing. omg!
Unfortunately, home stress is also mounting.
They’ve now moved dad out of the cardiac ward (which was the only ward they had space in) and into a dementia ward, because they needed the bed in the cardiac ward. Which is kind of scary, because he’s still with it and we’ve not noticed signs of real mental deterioration – but my mother suspects that there’s a Reason they moved him there. Now my mother suspects there’s a Reason for everything, and it’s usually the worst possible take on things, so I try not to take her suspicions too seriously – but she’s had some strange things to say about dad’s stay so far.
He’s on heavy doses of morphine to treat the pain in his shoulder, so that would have a lot to do with why he seems out of it and not quite all there. But she says that he’s been – not quite rude, but not his usual polite self – to the nurses and to his doctor, to the point that he won’t even look at them when they are speaking to him. That is strange and worrying to me.
I dropped in briefly with the kids yesterday but couldn’t stay, and he was really disappointed that I was leaving. It was pretty scary to see him so still and groggy, too. The plan was that Otto and I would visit today, but she chose her time to have a massive tantrum and frankly I think mum was glad to get out of the car when I dropped her off at the hospital – no way was I taking a screaming, fretful child in there. I’ll try to sneak out on the weekend so I can go see him on my own for a bit. They’ve said they won’t be moving himto the other hospital until at least next week, but still haven’t given an indication of how long he will be in there. That’s important for us to know, because it might affect the carer’s allowance that mum receives (on the upside, it might also mean that they need to draw their pensions at the “single”/”living apart” rate until he is released). I’m going to try to make time to take her in to see the pensions people early next week, but time is starting to look very very tight.
After dad had his first stroke 9 years ago, mum and dad sold the home they bought when they married (too many steps) and moved to a smaller but still quite roomy unit. Recently, they went and looked at one of those retirement community places with serviced apartments, thinking that it might be good for 5 years or so in the future. Mum said dad’s doctor is recommending that they bring that timeframe forward. I’m saying wait until they move him and he has had his physiotherapy, so we can see what his progress is like. The doctor has only ever seen him smacked out on morphine. I know mum really loves her little garden, and leaving it would be a wrench. On the up-side, though, if they moved to an apartment, my garden might start to see some Nanna-love! And our lovely real estate agent that we used to sell Fraser’s old house has moved to an agency on that side of town. On the down-side, I might get back from Europe and have to start organising packing up and selling their stuff, selling their unit and co-ordinating their move. Life is never dull, is it.
While I do my best to laugh at the absurdities, it’s pretty scary how fast he has gone from ok to – well, to a bit of a husk. He even looks frail now. I’m nervous about how long he’ll be in hospital, because I know how older people can deteriorate quickly when they are hospitalised long-term. He’s even refusing books at the moment, saying he really can’t concentrate on anything – it’s terribly sad. I can see my plans to live in Germany with the girls next year fading a little, although I remind myself that it’s much too early to make any decisions. Ironically, given that 18 months ago I was told flat-out that my mother was unlikely to survive her cancer, I think mum would be fine to visit us over there but I don’t see dad making any plane trips. If they move to a serviced apartment, that might even be an option – although it would be terribly cruel to leave dad behind here.
A funny story, though, from our brief visit yesterday.
Dad was in a 4-bed ward. The bed beside him was vacant; opposite him was a man recovering from heart surgery. And in the opposite corner, the curtains were closed around the new arrival. Dad had been snoozing when we arrived, but woke and had a chat with us. At one point, he beckoned me and mum close.
“They’ve got a child in there,” he said quietly. “And I think it’s JOINED.”
Puzzled, we didn’t push it – particularly as we were interrupted by the tea lady. Today, I asked mum about it: Was I imagining things, or was he trying to tell me that there were conjoined twins in his ward? She snickered.
We’re not sure what he dreamt, but clearly conjoined twins was a part of it. And not in a saucy way, either. (if that is even possible). Morpheine has a lot to answer for: in fact, it was a man with a lung infection or some such thing.
I am almost disappointed.