My father was released from the hospital yesterday.
The whole thing seems like a bit of a comedy of errors now.
My sister had spoken with the discharge person from the hospital last week and they let her know the process: they would provide a listing of skilled nursing facilities in the area and check for availability of beds. They would call her back and let her know options and perhaps some recommendations. I had assumed (foolish me) that at that point we would have figured out where we would like to have him moved.
I actually found out about it talking with his assigned nurse today, who mentioned in passing at the end of the conversation that he was being transferred. The actual words did not register with me until I had hung up.
I gave my sister a call - no, she had heard nothing either. She called - and while she was speaking with the other person, the discharge people called. I was in the pre-know by 15 minutes.
They were not planning on moving him until later in the day and given that disruptions are probably not the greatest thing in the world right now, I am waiting to hear from my sister what visitation is possible.
This is longest period I have not spoken with father - outside of training in Japan - that I can remember.
This is now another learning curve. I imagine there is some level of physical therapy and recovery that will happen here. How much? How quickly? What does recovery really mean.
I feel as if every new development which seems to be good news also brings with it a new set of concerns as well.
But my father is out of the hospital. Today, we will take the victory and thank God.
Post Script: I spoke with my sister tonight. She did talk to my father tonight on the phone. He was somewhat confused but was responsive. I will try to go talk to him tomorrow.