Well, the insurance got antsy, and said dad would have to leave the rehab 
by the end of next week.

He's energized at least a little, as the food "sucks" IHHO (he has gotten 
'chewable' meals, tho that he could was thanks to a mixup), and no amount 
of adjustment to the HVAC system will satisfy him, either.

(And, he hasn't been able to smoke for about the last month. Insert 'raised 
eyebrows' shot of Sir Tom here.)

Now I'll need to relocate the hide-a-bed sofa (after removing all the 
*stuff* on it) from the room with the computer and his desk to the one with 
the TV, in the very-likely event he has to limit going up and down stairs 
to go to bed.

And figure out what really-unusual size sheet it takes.

B

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