I talked to Dad late last night. The nurse told him they were taking the phone away when we were done—apparently he’s been getting a lot of calls. ;}

As of last night, he was still in intensive care. He seemed to expect to be going home soon, maybe by today; he sounded pretty healthy and comfortable, except for the awkwardly placed alarm button he kept accidently hitting with his elbow. I expressed a lot of concern about missing things like chest pains, and we decided to meet in the middle, because in a horrible way he’s right: to spend all your time being hyper-focused on your health is not to be spending your time living. But I can live with meeting in the middle. After all, I like my Daddy quite a bit.

He still has his phone with him and you can’t convince me he hasn’t been using it. His friends are insisting he rest instead of looking at his email, but he explained to me the following: There is no way his little internet-enabled cell phone is less relaxing than an intensive care bed where every time you nod off to sleep and move your arm two inches, a machine starts shrieking…

I mean, nurse alert buttons are great and all. I am totally for nurse alert buttons.

Further news from later phone call: Dad talked to the cardiologist, who says though there’s no guarantee, he may be released tomorrow afternoon. Awesomeness.