It's almost time to go! I'm not sure if I'm going to have a chance to get back on the computer before we leave on Thursday evening (especially since I haven't started packing yet, much less supervising the packing of the man, who thinks he needs his entire wardrobe for a week), so I just wanted to give everyone a quick heads-up. We'll be back on May 14, and hopefully by the next day I'll have the strength to type and post some pictures of my fabulous Parisian vacation. I'm really looking forward to going, not only because it's Paris and I've been looking forward to it, but because there are things I'd like to get away from here for a while since I can't do anything about them.
File this under the heading "you can’t leave town without a crisis." My stepdad called early Sunday morning. Early as in I wasn't up yet and wasn't able to ask coherent questions, not that I would have gotten answers anyway. He said he had to have a "procedure" yesterday and he'd call me after. When I didn't hear from him, I called around to all the hospitals in his area – he lives in rural NY state, so the hospitals are miles and miles apart, and even further from where he lives – and finally found him in Ithaca recovering from a lamenectomy to his lower back. That's not a procedure, that's a major freaking operation, especially for a man his age and with his weight and various health problems.
I talked to his nurse, who was surprised I wasn't there. Apparently he put me down as a resident relative. I told her that not only was I not resident, but he lives alone, I'm almost 300 miles away, and I'm leaving the country any day now. Together we wondered how he even got to the hospital since he's not allowed to drive. I thought that ratting him out would at least keep him there for a while, but when I called to talk to him this morning, I was told he was busy being discharged and would call me when he got home. It hasn't been 24 hours! It's spinal surgery! He's alone and elderly and refuses to do therapy or exercise!
I think I need a glass of wine. Preferably seated at an outdoor café table under a nice shady tree, gazing at a wonderful Parisian street scene. Far, far away from here.