Dad’s getting better

Friday’s night’s hanging out at bedside with Dad was a pretty quiet

affair — it was just me and him in a darkened room in the Intensive

Care Unit of St. Joseph’s. He slept most of the time, while I quietly did some light reading (really, it’s one of the simplest techie books of all time).

Saturday’s visit was completely different. I arrived in the afternoon

to find the room filled with people: Mom, my sister Eileen, my Aunt

Beth, who’d flown in from the Philippines the day before, and Letty, a

friend of the family. Dad’s bed was set so that he could sit upright,

and Eileen was spooning him some soup. He asked for some hot chocolate.

He seemed better, even making his usual observational and irreverent

wisecracks.

Someone mentioned that Aunt Beth (who is one of Dad’s younger sisters)

is Dad’s guardian angel. Every time his health takes a turn for the

worse, she comes over, and within a day or two, he gets better. Kudos

to her for leaving Manila (where the weather seems pretty nice right now) for Toronto, where we’ve been enduring temperatures of -25 degrees C

(-13 degrees F). Perhaps her visit, combined with some antibiotics, and

the removal of a blood clot and a couple of infected, unsalavageable

toes, made the difference.

I’m sure your kind words and prayers also helped. Thanks to everyone who wrote in via comments and email. You’re great people.