Dad is still in the hospital. The doctors would like to move him to Northeast Rehabilitation Hospital in Portsmouth, NH but he has been having small strokes everyday. Until he is stable for 24 hours he isn't going anywhere. Yesterday he was doing much better. My brother Paul sent a photo of Dad eating dinner. He was even feeding himself for the first time since the big stroke last Friday. Then an hour later he sent a text that he had another small stroke. When the strokes happen, he doesn't know his name, or where he is. His speech becomes "word salad", a term that the nursing staff uses. The little strokes aren't showing up on a CAT scan. His hip replacement is too new to do an MRI, which would give the doctors a lot more information.
It's hard for me to believe that this photo of Dad, taken five years ago when Jeff and I were moving to North Carolina, is the same man in the photo that my brother texted me last night. I bet those pants would fall off of him now! Five years ago he was still mowing that green grass and trimming bushes and hedges. My Mom's been gone a year now. Dad has been a trooper. He has managed living alone much better then any of us kids ever imagined. I am not sure he will be going back home.