Halfway There

 “…whoa-oh, living on a prayer!”

The soaring vocals of Bon Jovi filled my head yesterday morning after completing my phone call with Dr Abbi - Moonie came through his first surgery with flying colors, Dr Abbi is confident she did him a lot of good, even though he had “the worst impar ligament she’s ever seen”. That’s my boy, the overachiever! Heh heh - easy to make jokes now, but I have been seriously concerned - we’re not out of the woods yet. Current game plan is to do his right foot next Monday or Tuesday, keep him hospitalized for another 7-10 days, then he should be comfortable enough to travel home (which is a 6-hr trailer ride) That would land on Thurs 11/13, which is the day I planned on packing & loading for Twoie & I’s next attempt at a 25-mi ride 11/15. I may make it easier on myself by driving to Sweetwater Wednesday night & staying in a hotel to break up the trip somewhat. I shudder to think what Moonie’s “bail” is going to be, so what’s an extra hundred bucks for a hotel?!?

In other news, the immediate saga of Tamara is ended. She signed herself out of her skilled nursing facility last Monday (AMA), persuading an aide to drive her home, who also helped her get the power turned back on at her house. But at some point Tuesday night, she fell in her back hallway - the neighbors noticed the lights were on & fearing a break-in, they called the police. The police broke in to find her; she was taken to the hospital where she expired Sunday. Her daughter was understandably distraught, since she had not jumped up to run down here - she thought she had a little more time. I tried to console her by telephone - her first responsibility is to her own family & 4 young children after all! I called her ex-husband Monday afternoon who, being the good guy that he is, immediately volunteered to help however he could with securing her property until Alex is able to come down. Ron will also break the news to his 19-year-old grandson whom Tamara babysat a lot when he was younger… Alex told me Tamara will be cremated & that’s that, with no plans for a memorial service which seems to be the going thing, just as for Grandma Phu?

At least we saved her animals, and poor Tamara herself did not die like a stray dog in her hoarder’s house. Corey is happy as a clam amongst his new dog pack - I told Peran I’m building a sled dog team 😉