Magazine Chicken

I've opened this blog about 100 times in the last twenty-four hours but I couldn't figure out what I could say until I got some good news.

Yesterday my dad was feeling sick and my mom took him to the walk-in. They were told he had pneumonia and potentially a blood clot in his lungs and told him he needed to go to the emergency room. After 8 hours in the ER, dad was admitted. It's been up and down -pneumonia, no pnemonia, no blood clot, infections, no infection, heart murmur, no heart murmur and so on and so forth, as we got info from the hospital staff. Suffice to say, they concluded it was viral bronchitis and sent the old man home with antibiotics this afternoon.

After talking to my mom at 7am this morning, she told me the doctor would be in around 11am our time to give a clearer diagnosis so I did busy work until I couldn't stand it anymore and I called the hospital. My dad picked up and this is the conversation we had:

Dad: Hello?
Me: Dad! You answered! You sound really good!
Dad: Ya, I feel better...I wish you could see what they delivered for lunch...
Me: What is it?
Dad: It's the whitest chicken I've ever seen...it smells weird....like magazines.
[sound of my mother laughing hysterically in the background]
Me: It smells like magazines?
Dad: Ya...I told that nurse, I want a grilled ham and cheese!

Somehow, my dad always gets the hookups. Ever since I was little I remember my dad wheeling and dealing and bringing home things for free (please recall the toilet paper he brought home that I "decorated" his office with). And even now when he's sick, he's able to convince nurses to bring him treats.

I talked to my mom a little after that, she was still laughing. Apparently the nurse brought her a chef salad to eat while my dad enjoyed his grilled ham and cheese. Unfortunately they just delivered another platter of white magazine-flavored chicken. Poor dad.

They are on their way home now. I do not come from a patient people so I can just see them panicked, trying to flag nurses down to get the hell out of there. I just have this mental picture of dad in a hospital gown and cowboy boots, ready to book it!

So, here's to my pops, love you and I'm glad you're feeling better and on your way home!