I could focus on how Joey has now been in hospital for 38 days. Or how much I miss having him at home with me. Or about how I am actually homesick not just for my own home, but for my normal life: having “home days”, in my pjs, with Joey, puttering around with nowhere in particular to get to. Falling asleep together at night; waking up a few hours before him in the morning. Going to work, going to the gym, having any sense of normalcy.
I could focus on how Joey was able to get out of hospital and come home for dinner last night. Or that he felt like low level crap today; has definitely felt worse, but has also felt much, much better. Or the fact that Mr. “Drop Dead” gave a full on frontal show to a few of our visitors today, including Joey’s mom. Note to future visitors: keep your eyes straight ahead and walk quickly to the end of the hall when you stop by. The door is open, the curtain is open, and we’ve been told he winks. I don’t want to know with what.
Instead, I will focus on the food. The staff is lovely, but to say that the cuisine leaves something to be desired is a gross understatement. We are frequently asked what we are eating these days. Breakfast seems to go fine – oatmeal for Joey with the hopes it will stick to his ribs. The jury’s still out on whether or not that’s working. (See March in Joey’s angels 2011 calendar for full joke comprehension – shameless marketing!) As for lunch and dinner, if he’s feeling well enough to go out, we try to pop over to his mom’s or go home. If he’s not feeling well, sometimes people will bring food in. Other times, we subsist on snacks. Here’s why:
This is not digitally enhanced. The lasagna and carrots actually are florescent. Next.
The gravy is clear. Who wouldn’t want potatoes slathered in foul looking, watery brown liquid? Oh, that’s right, Joey.
Can someone tell me what the hell this is?
And finally, we just thought this one was funny: “Seasonal Fruit”. I don’t remember seeing any pineapples or maraschino cherries growing around the Powell River area. Seems to me like somebody opened a can. And not of Del Monte either. That shit looks generic.
My apologies to my parents for my language (yet again). I have been berated for this on multiple occasions. But we will save that anecdote for another day.