If it wasn't for the bullet

2003-09-28 - 8:23 p.m.

You know it's going to be a tough day when you spend the whole previous night dreaming about how tired you are. In my dream last night I dreamed that I was spending the night at someone else's house. I think it must've been a function put on by my fraternity because I know for sure Foo was there and there were a bunch of other Asian people running around, too. We were all in our PJ's sitting in someone's living room watching a movie. The movie was in Chinese. I was so tired I could hardly stay awake and I couldn't understand the movie anyway, but I also didn't want to be the first one to fall asleep. And to make things worse, there was an American version of this same movie available and I had a copy of it in my hands. I would periodically ask if we could please watch this version instead. Besides being in English, this version had the added bonus of starring Hugh Jackman. Not only that, but the Chinese version was one of those ridiculously long things many Asian people seem to enjoy so much--it took up ten DVDs! I was so tired but I just had to stay awake. Can't we please watch the American version?

When my mom and I arrived in the hospital this morning, we found that my grandfather was much worse today than he was yesterday, confusion-wise. Physically he's doing awesome. We're just having trouble keeping him oriented. The only thing he seemed to totally comprehend this morning was the 49er's game, and that wasn't helping much, they sucked so badly. He kept jumping up out of his chair wanting to get something or go somewhere, only we didn't know what or where. And that in itself wasn't so bad except hospital rooms have limited space so all the furniture and junk is crammed in there. He could easily trip and fall over something if we don't clear it out of the way first. He would just jump up and start going without any warning. And I think I annoyed him quite a bit, too. "Where're you going, Grampa?" Usually he had no idea and we'd wander around the hall until I could convince him to head back to his chair. Sometimes, though, he'd get mad and yell, "I'm going to pee, God damn it!" or something similar. But also just general disorientation. He doesn't always know he's in the hospital. Anyway, by the time we snuck away for a lunch break my mom was pretty near tears because Grampa had regressed so far.

After lunch he was doing better, though. Not as well as yesterday, but at least better than this morning. Tomorrow, though, he's being discharged. That's right, we're taking him home. I'm thinking that when he's at his house there'll be a lot less opportunity for disorientation. And there's a lot more space so he can piddle around wherever he wants. As long as we keep the car keys out of his reach, there isn't too much trouble he can get into.

In yesterday's entry I proclaimed that parallel parking is no problem for me. I have to admit that may have been a bit of an exaggeration. Where I come from the need for parallel parking is almost nonexistent so it's not a skill I ever really learned. I remember one time I was in Stockton with Stretch and we were going to a Baskin Robbins free scoop night and I had to parallel park. There was this really huge space and no traffic and I still couldn't get into the thing. I wonder if Stretch remembers that. There I was trying to pretend not to be too embarrassed that I couldn't even park the car. Well, while parallel parking may not exactly be "no problem," it is at least something I can do now. I did really parallel park on a 25% grade.