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| Super Bowl FunDay |
It was around the time my symptoms were worsening and just a few weeks before Battle: FMGB began. I couldn't help but notice the hilarious contrast between Dad's last two visits, merely weeks apart.
Pictured above, smiling and cheering on the team.
Pictured below is Dad's day with Gabe. This is roughly 12 hours after he flew in, taxi'ed to NYU, met me in recovery, and witnessed me sleeping soundly under anesthesia, followed by me coming out of anesthesia, and experiencing the worst pain I've ever felt in my life, including childbirth. This folks, is called pancreatitis, and it sucks.
While Dad stood there asking me how I felt, (expecting in the beginning that he was just there to pick me up because, after all, it was Day Surgery), I barfed 3 or 4 times in a bed pan and yelled at him to yell at the nurses to get me pain medication and fast. He diligently followed my orders and tried his best to get the nurses on it while I lay in a stretcher in the Worst. Pain. Ever. I thought I was dying. I am not exaggerating. Not one bit.
So, naturally, while Manny visited me in the hospital on Saturday, Dad was stressed about the entire weekend and the events that transpired. His job with the whole turn-of-events was to entertain Gabe. Naturally, as any stressed-out-Gramps would do, Dad took him to the restaurant across the street from the park, explaining to Gabe that he'd really like their chicken fingers while Dad really liked their Greygoose dirty martini's. I think had I been in my Dad's shoes I would have done the exact same thing. Although, my days of martini's are far off into the future, as I am sure if I had one right now I would flatline.
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| Dad promised Gabe he could sit in the "big boy" seats and eat his chicken fingers |
1 comment:
I am glad you are feeling a little better. (You were missing an after picture of you.)
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