When I checked my messages yesterday, I heard that my parents had an appointment with their regular doctor this morning. I of course had planned to go to yoga class, since I couldn't go yesterday. But the appointment conflicted with these plans. It was at 8:40. Since I don't drive on freeways, and this was just the time people are trying to get to work, I had to leave the house at 6:30 AM to pick them up. But since I couldn't sleep last night, I was up in plenty of time, even able to bake the croissants from Trader Joe's that had been proofing in the kitchen all night. I made three, hoping Richard and Jeremy would like one. But Jeremy was sleeping at the new apartment. Richard dropped him off fairly late last night, after I went to bed.
Richard didn't want one. He had to catch the bus for school. I ate mine and took the other two to my parents' house, thinking that even if dad couldn't eat his, mom would like them. They'll probably be eating them now for tea.
Their doctor was much more hopeful about my dad's prognosis than the docs in the hospital. For one thing, he's doing much better now, though he's surely not 100%, which is not surprising.
She is sending us to a cardiologist, who may be able to do a modified angiogram without the dye that would shut down his kidneys, or with less of it than usual anyhow, or he may be able to give us medication if he can't do the angiogram. My father was heartened by the news. It lightens his downheartedness at the restricted diet he must be on, and the fact that they cannot go to the Center for at least another week, possibly more.
Poor mom, but she is happy to have dad back, and is eating again, as long as the caregiver feeds her every bite.