Kathleen and I drop in about 9:15 Sunday. Bernie looks the best I've seen him in weeks. His forehead isn't flaky, his right eye is better, if still only about 90%. He is responsive and even bright in conversation."Walkie Walkie?" "No, thanks." Alas.
"How bout a ride in the chair?" "No, thanks." Alas.
"How bout we just push this bed up and down the hall?" He smiles. That's what I needed.
Kathleen reviews papal events, Palm Sunday gospels and I read the Dagwood comic from the Chronicle. It brings a spontaneous smile. This is new.
Usually we have to pester him to drink his Ensure (nutrition supplement drink), but today he said he likes the chocolate and opened up and sipped on the bottle which had been resting on his night table.
He has the choice of apple and cranberry juice, and often drinks from the always cold glass of water.
He does not initiate any conversations, but Kathleen keeps him engaged, and reiterates at least five times that Nazareth House wants him back soon, and the road home requires walking and alternating sides while he is in bed.
I double check and see that he is on the list to receive communion, but we leave before the Eucharistic Ministers (or Priest this week?) arrive.
"See you tomorrow Bernie." "That will be good."
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