soon to be shorn

Attempt #2 at getting a haircut will begin in an hour or so. I've had a late morning; Dad and David went out with the Texan contingent to Cafe Luka for breakfast. Everyone reported that the food was generally good, though Dad seemed a bit disappointed that the portions weren't larger (compared with Luka's huge dinner portions).

Dad's over at the hospital, waiting to go in and see Mom. The Texans may be joining him. I'll be hitting the hospital later on, after I've had a second shower to rinse out whatever clippings might still be clinging to me.

Sean probably has to head back down to Virginia tomorrow to take care of some personal business; he'll be up in NYC again after a day or two. David is also a bit worried about staying away from work too long. He says he might have to arrange it such that he stays in New York only part of the week. Some of his work can be done remotely by computer, but a lot of it can't, he tells me.

We all may be moving out of this facility soon. The cost is becoming prohibitive. It's $225 per night (I had mistakenly said "$220" before), and about $35 per day for parking-- payment upon exit must be in cash. Dad's looking into military accommodations at a nearby base. No matter whether we go the military route or take people up on their offers of free lodging, we're going to end up farther away from the hospital, making it difficult for us to access Mom as freely as we currently can. (The solution might be to stay at the hospital from noon to 1AM, but then there's the question of how much we're inconveniencing our hosts when we come home late.)

Further complicating matters is that we really don't know how long Mom might remain in New York. Her condition is tenuously stable at best; she might veer off into either radical improvement or radical failure.

Pastor Jeri is helping us look into hospice options, and is also helping us look further into the future, toward funeral home options. As much as I've repeatedly emphasized the need for realism in dealing with this situation-- the need to stay focused and in touch with what's actually happening-- there are moments, these days, when I shake my head and say to myself: Damn. This isn't a dream.


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