MOVING DAY

Peg has been moved from the ICU into a regular room. A good sign but only a small step. Spoke to her an hour ago, she now has a phone by her bed. "How are you?" "Fine but the service here is terrible." She told me she'd had a heart attack about 6 times and that she had run into either a Russian doctor or nurse or orderly, didn't get this straight--someone she'd met at some earlier hospital visit--who'd nearly wept when she said one of her favourite books was Mikhail Bulgakov's "Heart of a Dog". Seems he wept all over again when she reminded him. 

She was perky and bright and lively and very with it this morning, Annie and I saw her in the ICU before she'd been moved. We presented her with a BLUE BOOK, somewhat cautiously, not at all sure if her reaction would be positive or pissed off to find we'd changed the running order (not that there was one) or God forbid not put the pic of the fisher next to the cute Whitney Darrow Jr cartoon or...but she was over the moon. Thank you God. A) for keeping her alive to see a BLUE BOOK finished; and B) for allowing us to score points as Great, Clever, Kind and Thoughtful Daughters and Friends of Daughters. 

Of course, what she didn't see, was BLUE BOOK #2, which I have prepared tonight, and which will go off to journalist friend and Peg fan James Lileks of the Minneapolis Star Tribune tomorrow--and the captions for it I have just finished printing off, cutting, and glueing on. Most pages are self-explanatory but there are the odd pics that might be confusing to the non-family member on their own (or even to a family member), hence the addition of "Cousin Junior (Harry Sorenson) as a little boy" and "Cousin Jr now grown up and a Hells Angel" underneath. I am also happy to report that Lileks will be the happy recipient of not 1 but 6 pages inserted throughout his book featuring fishers, beginning with "A Fisher" and ending with "You can never look at too many fishers, is my feeling".
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I have answered 63 emails or messages from Peg friends and fans tonight. 
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STAFF ON CALL:
Outside Bob: finished painting office and answered 3,000 phone calls while I was at the hospital.
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Odd spoke to Peg today and I know that pleased him. Still, I catch him red-eyed, but can't tell what precisely may have brought it on, is it thinking about all Peg's going through, thinking about what if she dies and he never sees her again, or just plain wondering where she is because she's not on the couch or in the kitchen? Anyhow he went in for a nap at 4:30 and sat up at 9 when I went in to not-so-quietly find the paper cutter by the side of Peg's desk and crashed into the card table. I told him I'd spoken to Mama and she sounded good. He asked when she was coming home. I asked if he wanted some dinner. He asked what time it was and leaned down to velcro his shoes on. So I headed out here and started heating soup and leftover meatloaf and no sign, he's gone back to bed. The Hospice nurse today said give him an Atavan every night before he goes to bed to settle him, which hasn't happened, ditto nebulizer. I can look forward to an anxious unable to breath but hungry father at perhaps, what, 3 AM?

I have left a banana and 3 pecan sandies on a plate and a note. Ever hopeful. And that he doesn't fall or choke while I'm asleep.
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10:45 PM Peg just rang confused by all the different people coming into the room (nurses), mostly worried that they are giving her the wrong medication, that she is "not getting the alpurinol (sp?), the important one" she takes at night. I'll look into this tomorrow. I have never seen her take a pill at night.
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Am thinking I'm going to scoot up to bed before another parent needs me. Terrible, but that's the way it is.