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10/15/2004 Entry: "Dad Dreams of Sammiches"
So Dad's been in the hospital these last few days. He's feeling better now, and may be able to come home tonight. So that's good. But it leads me to this story...
I called a couple of nights ago to check up on him. Mom answered the phone, and I got an update from her. She then asked if I wanted to speak to him. Of course, I did. So Dad and I are talking, and he sounds drunk off his clock. I mention this to him, and he says the morphine is using him up pretty good. We said a few more things, and he says to me "I gotta let you go now, your brother (Mike) just brought us some sandwiches."
Now I'm thinking that Dad's been barfing his guts out for three days. So I said to him "You're going to eat a sandwich?" I figured they'd start him on broth and jello and so forth. "I'm gonna try to," he said to me.
So the next morning, I call again for the update. Mom answers, gives me the rundown, and says how he ate something for breakfast. Too which I said "Did he keep the sandwiches down last night?"
"What?" Mom asked.
"The sandwiches that Mike brought in." I said.
"Mike hasn't been here, let alone brought us any sandwiches" she said.
I explained the whole story to her, and we giggled a little, what with Dad hallucinating about sandwiches. She put Dad on the phone, and I related the story to him. I said to him, I said "You told me Mike was visiting and he brought you some sandwiches," to which he responded "I said no such thing!"
"Not only did you say that," I said, "but when I asked you if you were fit enough to eat a sandwich, you said 'I'm gonna try to.'"
He remembers none of it. But it'll be a story I'll tell for years, I'm sure.