Seven weeks ago today, my father had his hip replaced.
He did great at the hospital, so great they sent him home on the third day. Then the troubles began. He was up a lot at night. He was down during the day. He just wasn’t himself.
Dr. Helen was on top of things, taking notes and discussing matters in great detail with the nurses and therapists who visited from Androscoggin Home Health Care. I met several of Daddio’s caregivers and they were top-notch.
Little by little, things got better for Herman. He graduated from the walker to a cane and he started taking jaunts up the street. Pretty soon, he was able to walk around the block and even stop at Uncle Bob’s. Sit on the porch. He went to the grocery store with Dr. Helen and lately, he’s been driving.
When, though, was Herman going to stop wearing exercise clothes? That’s what I wanted to know. Every time I would visit, he’d be wearing either sweatpants or workout pants. I asked my mother about it and she explained how Herman had to do exercises three times a day and it just made more sense for him to stay in his “fitness outfits.”
I didn’t like it.
I know we live in a casual age. In my trips around town, I do see men and women traipsing around in their pajamas. That’s their business and although I don’t care for this level of casualness, who am I to intervene? It’s just that I hold my father up to a higher standard.
Fortunately, he seems to have made it over the last hurdle in his recovery. The fashion hurdle.
Herman and Helen stopped by Sunday afternoon; they’d been to church and out to lunch. They were in a hurry, though. The New England Patriots were playing at 1:00 p.m. and Herman didn’t want to miss the kick off.