My dad went back to the hospital Sunday night. He had fallen three times at home, and had a fever again. It turns out that last time he was in the nursing home, someone forgot to give him his antiobiotics, and his infection came back.
I went to visit him last night.
At first he was a little confused and hard to understand. He didn't remember my husband's name, and his voice sounded kind of funny, although I can't explain how. We talked a little, and then a doctor came in to examine him.
I also called my mom, and talked to her, and had dad talk to her as well. I said that we were planning Thanksgiving. (We're ordering it this year; I need to pick up the stuffing.)
He said he'd like to get out of the hospital for Thanksgiving. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but I know how he feels.
It was evening, after supper, when I visited, so I asked if he wanted to pray.
We prayed the Lord's Prayer together.
Then I said, "You taught it to me, you know."
"I know," he said.