saw my brother off (yes, I drove him to the airport) this morning, at the ass crack of dawn.
Dad is doing really well. He's going to have one heck of a scar, and he tires easily, but he's doing great. Everyone seems kind of surprised, but I always remind the nurses that he didn't have a heart attack, they found his blockage through routine screenings. They ended up doing a quad bypass, not a triple, but he's still recovering nicely. The big thing seems to be his sugars, which have dropped like a hot rock, so he's backing off the diabetes meds for now, until he's eating more.
Me? Well, I'm very hormonal, which means I'm paranoid, whiny, and slow. I had my little breakdown last night while I was supposed to be sleeping, though, and today decided that there's no sense in bitching about all of my shit. It just annoys me and other folks.
My brother was very good with dad, and despite how I bitch, it was good to have him.
I did stop at the big W world for some retail therapy on the way home, and got an ugly pair of shoes that are insanely comfy, a new frying pan and a new electric kettle. This makes me happy, though I might have to go to the Cato later and get cute, cheap clothes