Our day began with rather sad news, when we heard that Uncle Bobby, a long time family friend had died in the early hours of the morning. He and his wife had known my parents since they were all teenagers. Bobby and my Dad were both in the hospital at the same time, but Bobby was allowed to go home a few weeks ago. He died early this morning of heart failure.
When we arrived at the hospital this afternoon, we got a surprise to see that Dad's bed was empty; he was no longer in his room. Turned out that he had been moved to another room which has a built-in hoist to lift him from the bed to the armchair every day. Dad is now sitting up for a couple of hours every afternoon and, even though he finds it quite tiring, the physiotherapist told us that she is pleased with the progress he is making with his arm and leg exercises.
One of today's nurses had told him that we "nearly lost him" a few times over the past weeks, so today Dad was talking a lot about what he remembers of his experiences, and asking us to fill in some of the gaps by telling him about things that he's not able to remember clearly.
