Phew. A long hot drive. At one point - mutual cries of "Oh. No!" As Big Sis and I topped a hill with the traffic slowing and saw the glittering, stacked up cars, caravans and whatever stretching down this hill and up the next ... and the next. Give up now?
With perseverance and a peanut butter and apple sandwich we eventually crept past a police accident sign - and everything speeded up. On our way again.
Got to the Hospital. Tried the ward The Old Man was being moved to. Not there yet. Back to High Dependency - different visiting hours but they let us in.
There was the Old Man. Sleeping and beeping.
Woke him up. And he gradually got the hang of talking again. And then we got to spend a goodly chunk of our visit time - escorting his bed and friendly nurses down to the ward we started out on.
Still, seen him in place. Handed over the bag of fruit and chocolate. And the newspaper. And passed on good wishes. And listened to nurse type banter. He sounded much stronger by the time we left. They say he is doing good.
Back home for about 6.30.
One is tired. Not to mention how tired Big Sis (who did the driving) must feel.
Not to mention how tired The Old Man must feel.