My dad's back in the hospital. He woke up with chest pains at 3 am and got up and unlocked the front door and turned on the light, just in case there was a reason the EMT's would have to get in and NOT bust the door in again. He *did* go back to bed and some more sleep after the pains calmed. He and Reba talked at 7 am and he told her about his night and she came down and took him to the hospital. They're keeping him tonight and are telling us it's still the pneumonia. I *told* him he needed to stay in his chair and rest but he's like a goddamned 10 year old and has to "go out and play". He walked to the end of the street and back yesterday and told me he almost didn't make it back. I told him he was over doing it too soon, but nobody ever fucking listens to me. So now he's back in the hospital and bitching because he wanted to be home to watch the UK vs Florida football game. I told him they should tie his ass to that bed and make sure he did what he was supposed to.
*headdesk* He really is making me nuts.
But wait! There's more....
Now he's decided he's NOT going to sell the house and move to a retirement community/nursing home. Oh no--they're going to "fix-up" the house and get rid of everything that's in there now. This includes remodeling a bathroom, carpet in 3 rooms and all new furniture, paint, fixtures, etc. All of my stuff has to be gone too. And I *so* feel like all of this.