My dad had surgery. His two big neck arteries are clogged, one was above 90%. Just fucking filthy. So dad went in yesterday to get that one artery cleaned out. He’s also on day 37 of not smoking. For a guy who has been smoking cigarettes for about 36 years. That’s pretty good. So anyways, he’s in the ICU right now, he’ll be there for another day while the doctors make sure that he’s going to no have any problems when he gets home.
He’s already walking around.
Dad had a catheter, I don’t need to tell you where, but he had one. It was really painful. I’ll take his word for it. He said it was about the size of McDonalds straw. Every time he moved, he felt it. So when they took it out, and it really fucking hurt, he said it really fucking hurt.
So he’s doing OK now. In three weeks, he’s getting the other side done. And I might have to get him another balloon.
Wait, this requires a story… When my sister Chelsea lived with my dad, she put a sticker on his work truck. My dad works construction. She put on a rainbow sticker. My dad knew that she was gay, buy didn’t know about the sticker. So he drove around, site to site, with the pride sticker on his truck. At the time, my dad played the field. So all of a sudden my dad is driving around with a pride sticker on his truck.
Everyone was looking at him funny. All of his laborers, drivers, sparkies, and carpenters.
He had no clue.
After a while, someone told him what the sticker meant and he was at the back of his truck with a claw a hammer taking off that sticker. Scratching it off faster than the Flash in a whore house.
We got dad a rainbow balloon. He wasn’t sure if it I was being a smart ass or just clueless.