Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fungus

Well, it's been since Tuesday that I last saw Deb. I've talked to her several times each day since, but sitting here late on Friday night in Seattle, with my wife sleeping (I hope) in Kingsport on Saturday early morning, I'm becoming expert on realizing that it isn't anything remotely near the same. I feel that I should be there with her, but we both realized that I needed to come back when I did. Doesn't make me feel any better about it. Maybe I'll feel better about it late on Wednesday evening once she's back under my watchful eye.

It isn't that I don't think Mom-Linda is capable of caring for Deb. I do. I'd just rather be doing it myself. Still, less than a week to go. In fact, the countdown is at five days.

Deb, from all reports, continues to recover well. She's already made several outings, even a few with me before I left, but I think she may actually try eating out one evening very soon. She's told me that she wants to go back to Knoxville on Sunday (or was it Monday?) to spend a night or two before coming back, so she must be doing OK. This means that she'll have to make outings to eat out and things like that - we have no food, pots and pans, plates, forks, knives, spoons, or anything like that in the house in Knoxville now. I'm going to guess that her stamina will be up to the multiple excursions.

Five days. Five days. Five rotten, stinking days.