Update-April 12, 2007

Patty is out of the hospital. She was transferred earlier this week to the Washington County Health Center. We’re all pleased about this development. Her daughter-in-law’s grandmother had been a resident there. It’s also the same place where my dad spent the last fifteen months of his life. Of course, Patty isn’t on the “resident” floor. She’s in the skilled nursing wing where she will get excellent care and rehab and therapy.

The move did seem to set her back a bit. But that’s understandable. She’s gone from a private room in a big city hospital to the Health Center where she’s surrounded by people and can sit in the solarium and look out over fields and woods. Mom and I used to sit at that window and watch deer and turkey with my dad. But it’s a lot of mental stimulation for someone recently out of a coma.

I stopped in to see her last night. That’s the other good thing. She’s now close enough that we can drop in several times a week to visit. She was sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb her. So I sat and watched her sleep for a half hour.

Okay, I admit, it was weird going back to the place where my dad died. What’s even weirder is that Patty is in exactly the same room as my dad was in, only one floor down. It was interesting observing the emotions bubbling just under the surface as I strolled those familiar halls and rode that darned bumpy, noisy elevator.

Mom wants to go see her tomorrow. I’m feeling a little anxious on the heels of Mom’s recent hospitalization. But she insists she’s fine. And all the tests they ran would seem to support her argument. Mom’s one tough cookie. So is Patty. It’s in the blood. Thankfully, that’s the same blood that flows in my veins.