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Tuesday, July 25, 2006

worse news

I shoulda stayed.
Things turned bad quickly. B's in ICU. I went to the hospital cafeteria and had greasy food. The salad bar had been put away for the day. What's up with that?
At least I had my quilt to work on this evening. He asked five times with slight variations on the theme - was there a chance he might go home tomorrow. The angel assigned to him answered each time in a different way, each time meaning the same thing: No chance in hell, but the doctor will make the decision. And you thought you had to deal with difficult people every day.