Today after the Roto-Rooter they gave my Father two stents (gave – hah – they probably cost $10,000 CANADIAN a piece). He now has one in the left and one in the right side of his heart. I thought it was nice that they are symmetrical.

They said he has some plaque in other locations, but new medication should be sufficient for that. I tell you, someday soon you’re going to find one of my family members spooning pills into a pillbox like the one on the advertisement where the man puts an apple for each day of the week into the GINORMOUS “pill” box.

For those of you who are not eighty-five or haven’t a penchant for impersonating dowagers (or whatever the male equivalent is):
I want those red and white ones.
This is a Pill Box.

Yesterday they scanned my Dad’s worsening navel hernia (to see when it might just explode?). I don’t think they told him anything about it (probably just stood about mumbling, “Hmm, yes, yes, interesting. Don’t you think that part looks like a horsey?”). But I’ll tell you what’s cute: My Mom and Dad have matching hernias. Hers, however, doesn’t hurt. His pains him increasingly they tell me.

But guess what you get with two stents and a hernia that portends DANGER? A TRIP TO DISNEYLAND!!! I kid you not.

As Shirleen does NOT get to go to Disneyland (staying home like OTHERS of us ) she pouted by heading from my Dad’s hospital room down to the Emergency Room to have a breathing treatment. This week she eschewed breathing (breathing well, anyway). She works at that hospital now and cannot seem to get enough of it.