This Fat Lady moves pretty slowly.
Not much change today. Dad seems less restless to me, and seems to be keeping his arm in the bed instead of hanging it over the side like he was last night. The Weekend Doctor came in this morning and asked us again if we would like to stop the antibiotics. We said yes. They're not really doing anything anymore, and even if Dad's prognosis was different, they would have run their course by now.
Nolie keeps asking the doctors and nurses how long this will go on. Of course, it's a difficult question to answer, and they most often they respond with "any time now." Nolie suggested today that maybe it's like when I was born. Nothing was happening several hours after Mom went into labor, so Dad left the hospital and took Dumpling and Osito to Dr. Ferrell's office in Grand Prairie for their annual vaccinations. That's when I finally decided to make my entrance. I asked Nolie if she wanted to go to the vet's office, and she said no, that she might go buy some new panties since all her clean ones are already packed in the car. I can't believe I'm in a hospital room in Houston, Texas with my dying father, talking to my mother about her panties.
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