So the last few days have been interesting. There is a concern of Cancer; however I cannot worry about that right now. The immediate need is to get his lungs back in order. They drained over a liter of fluid from his right lung and may have to drain more as the week goes on. He is off the ventilator and on a BiPap machine which is the equivalent to deep throating the air compressor you use to pump up your tires. Yesterday everything was good and we were able to talk for a bit. By talk I mean, I talk and he shook his head yes/no. He also started to try to communicate in old country man sign language which, really never goes well. I mean do you know how hard it is to mime “look here now, head past the red barn, by the old tractor, right by where Old Man Barnes fell into the hog pen and them hogs ate him. You know they found his glasses and that is all, but anyhow, go on down there a mile past where your Aunt Sissy stayed at and tell Royce that I am in the hospital and he is going to have to get his own collards in…”.

Today has been a little worse, his blood 02 level tanked this AM so he is on a larger BiPap mask, however the nurse seems to think he should be back on the ventilator. So looks like he is in ICU for a while longer. I hate when he comes off the vent only to go back a day or hour later. It just is so hard on the soul to think, “yay! he is getting better, oh wait, no… crap”. So here is hoping that this one is the last one.

On a more interesting note the old folk network has infiltrated the ICU. I swear to god there is a CIA/KGB version of the AARP. In the last 24 hours two extended family members have shown up as hospital staff. One was the hospital receptionist and the other was the lunch lady. They all had different intel, so clearly the spy branch of the AARP may be good at infiltration, but sucks at intel gathering. One thought he was in a coma, the other old spy lady “heard” he had died “three or four times”.  I want to start planting counter intelligence that he actually overdosed on Viagra while at the Foxy Lady.

Also, I have learned to admire and even adore black preachers and deacons. I have come to believe that they are lord’s version of pimps. Think about it, they dress all sorts of badass, they manage a flock, they lay the smack down on the flock when they step out of line and they take “offerings” each week. Pimping for the lord, jump and give a brother a hallelujah… and you better haveThe Lord’s money bitch.