I can hardly believe it's only three days until I head back to Spain; I fly on Monday, the date originally planned when I booked my ticket to come home for three weeks at Christmas. In fact, it'll have been ten weeks since I made my emergency flight home when Dad lay "dying" in intensive care.
Monday, the day of my flight back to Malaga, will mark the beginning of the twelfth week in hospital for Dad. We had a meeting yesterday with the "pain doctor" who simply told us that they think the medication is working now and won't need to be reviewed so often. Physiotherapists told us that he's trying hard to stand on his own, but his muscles are very weak and the exertion sometimes makes him feel nauseous. Rehabilitation could take quite a long time.
In order to make up for two computer-less days earlier in the week, I'll be working hard today and tomorrow to finish my presentations for Sunday morning. (This involves going into the attic to work on an old PC and edit the slides in Powerpoint.) And I'm slowly beginning to pack my suitcase with stuff that I'll be taking back to Spain with me on Monday.
