In the last week, being back at the acute care hospital and watching the doctors scrambling to address the end-stage liver disease that's come out of nowhere during the treatment for the fungal infection, my sister and I have come to the realization that Dad will probably never come home. How long he stays in his current state of incontinent delusion is completely up in the air, but it's unlikely that he'll ever be able to walk by himself or need anything less than 24-hour care.
Sis and I are trying to keep living our lives, to the extent we can while being in the hospital as much as Dad needs, so we're making time for leisure activities to keep ourselves sane. So if y'all see me at Rhinebeck and I'm looking depressed, you know why. I won't want to talk about it, but hugs are appreciated.
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