I hear from my mom and my siblings that my dad got through his heart surgery and all, initially at least, is well. Apparently when he was extubated he told the ICU nurse to make sure he didn't miss CSI at nine, so I take that as a very good sign. I think I'm more nervous about him going to the intermediate care floor, because that's the kind of unit I work on, so I know a lot more about what can go wrong during that next stage. But I'm thinking positive. If all continues to go well, he may be out of the hospital in a little over a week, just in time for me to go up to Washington and help my parents out at home for a couple of days. I feel like my time is wasted when I go visit my parents in the hospital, because it's the one time I know for a fact that someone is with them. But I can actually be useful when they're at home.
Besides locking myself out of our apartment, barefoot, at dusk when Jeff wasn't home, the other great tragedy of the week is that Max had knee surgery today and he had a crappy nurse! I hate that. Max is doing well, though. Actually, I feel a little bad for him because if it were any other day besides the day my dad happened to have heart surgery, I would have made more of a fuss over him.