I (and by extension, my family)was so afraid he had brain damage. Well, he does, but I think he can work around it. My father is a brilliant man. An excellent, creative lawyer, an articulate, well-spoken man who occasionally goes pirate on us and calls people 'venal fuckheads' and other such delicious insults. I was terrified he'd be a drooling vegetable and frankly, I was thinking that if that was to be his fate, I'd rather he'd die. Does that sound awful?
I just couldn't stand the thought of my brilliant daddy no longer being my brilliant daddy. But he's back. Still a little confused, but we're told that's normal and will clear up over time. I'm so happy, I could spit. *Ptoo!*
He's been moved to an assisted living center where he will continue to recouperate until his hip is healed enough for him to put weight on it...about 3 weeks, the doctors say. He'll be doing some mild rehab work until then, but once he's able to put weight on his leg, the real work begins. It's going to be a long, hard road for him, but he's Bobito and so I have faith that he'll be all right.
Go Bobito, go!
Which reminds me...Momdingo told me that he's an absolute terror in his wheelchair and has "accidentally" "bumped" into her on several occasions, mostly when he's mad at her for not being nice.
Momdingo doesn't believe in humoring people and Bobito doesn't believe in brakes.
