View, hot. Food, not so much.

(Black stuff written by Ang. Green commentary provided by Becky.)

So, I ended up not being able to bring Dad New York Fries. The traffic to get downtown hurt my head. So, I detoured and went to Arby's. It was a good decision. Dad said "This is worth praying over!" So, we prayed over our fries and gravy. Then he said "I'm so stuffed I'm gonna puke, and not from chemo."

Here, is the view from his room. I think, and I'm sure you will agree that it's a nice mix between concrete action and green calming paradise. (Yes. I do agree.)


There's lots of action in the parking lot and typically someone to watch and make fun of or talk about. We look at cars he thinks I should buy. Most of them cost more than the 20 bucks I have in my purse though. He can almost see me run the whole way to visit him. I called once so they could watch for me, but I was too fast and they missed me. Yes....too fast. Tomorrow, I will run again because traffic sucks. Maybe they will catch the streak of lighting (Don't you mean lightENing?) this time.

Here is where Dad mostly sits. I typically sit in his wheel chair at the end of the table. I think he's got mouthwash in his mouth and that's why his face looks like that.


This one reminds me of being in jail. Which is what Dad feels like 24 hours a day. Jail with nice nurses and visits from your wife.


Here is a nice one of his room. You can see his exercise bike, some chemo waste and some stranger that no one knows. Not sure why he was there. (Maybe you should have asked him.)


Here's his bed. Not much to be said about it. Ummm, this is where he sleeps.


Dad told me to take this one, in case people wanted to see his bathroom. Here you go, it's not my fault. (I noticed the file name is john.jpg. Was that on purpose? Did you mean to imply that this is, in fact, John's john? Cause if you did... Good one.)


It's also not my fault why it won't rotate. I saved it rotated but it won't work. It has ticked me off for about 15 minutes now so I gave up. Becky if this bothers you, rotate it. Please. (Okay. I see he left the seat up. Good to see he feels so at home.)

Dad really hates it in the hospital. I feel for him. Today when I walked out to my car, I felt the sun and smelled the air and it made me sad. I make sure to park where I can look up before I go and see his room. Then we can wave at each other until I'm out of sight. I cried the whole time. I wish I could stay and live there but he would get sick of me I'm sure.