April 2, 2008

My Father's Forfeit

The surgery is tomorrow. Today Sara, Dad, Valerie (his girlfriend), and I met for lunch. We talked about the surgery like travel plans. "We'll be there at seven, he should be out around eleven. They say'll he be in a room between one and two, on the sixth floor. You should be able to call the desk to find out the room number." Like calling a hotel.
Dad has a good sense of humor about it all. For a while his quote on Gmail was "What the hell is a Prostate, anyway?"
Everyone has tomorrow off of work and will be there, but me. I hadn't realized that everyone else would be able / willing to drop everything to be there. I'm trying not to feel bad about it. I couldn't get that much time off of work even if I could afford it. I already have most of Monday and Tuesday off. I am hoping that since Valerie will be spending the afternoons at Dad's, too, I might be able to get out to the horse farm a couple of times. At least get to see Faux Pas. It always helps to clear my head. Between work and Dad I'll need that.
So, until tomorrow, when I know more.


Ellie said...

Call me if you need anything, alcoholic or otherwise. Good luck! Everything will be fine.

Sam said...

I've always been uneasy with the tradition of convening in the hospital waiting room during surgery.

I mean, it's not like you can rush in and help out if things start to go badly.

I think that sitting at your desk, thinking about your Dad and hoping everything goes ideally is just as productive.