Sprung

My dad was finally discharged from the hospital on Friday afternoon, two weeks after he'd arrived. The time kept getting pushed back, from 10AM to 2PM to 4PM, and between the delays and my state of near-sedation, I didn't get to see him until the following morning.

He's now ensconced in a rehab facility that is much closer to my parents' apartment, where he has his own room and a new parade of people—nurses, aides, physical and occupational therapists, and the occasional doctor—to whom he will soon endear himself. He and I already have a date to go back to the hospital and visit all of his caregivers there, once he's completely recovered and ready to flirt with all his might.

Can't wait.