I'm Paraphrasing Here

Sometime this morning my dad received a visit from a social worker—or an occupational therapist or a nurse or some other member of the hospital staff—who asked him a bunch of questions in anticipation of his discharge from the hospital and transfer to a rehabilitation center, which we hope will happen tomorrow.

I have no idea what the questions were, but at least one of his responses was deemed noteworthy enough to be recorded in his chart, where it was discovered later in the day by one of the many doctors on his team. Based on the expression on her face when she read it aloud, I'm guessing that most of her patients indulge in the kind of word-mincing that my father has never fancied.

I didn't have the presence of mind to write it down verbatim, but it went something like this:

"I'm 80 years old. I just want to go home and sit in my chair and watch television and drink Diet Coke. Is that too much to ask?"

No, Dad. No, it's not.

And the first round's on me.