AUSTIN, Texas, Apr. 18, 2005 — I wake up with a couple of things on my mind. I want to update my journal, download some pictures and work on a project from my committee at our club. And...I need to go get Dad's paper in, get him some breakfast, help him out. And I need a workout and I have an appointment to get my teeth cleaned this afternoon.

Over it all is the scheduled procedure for tomorrow for my dad...and the hope, the hope I'm afraid to entertain, that it will get Dad back to a painfree independence.

I get up, do the journal, work on the project, download the pictures, call my dad. He says he managed to start his laundry. That's good. Of course, there aren't many houses where this would be at all possible if you could only stand for a few seconds and couldn't walk. A wheelchair-accessible laundry room is a rare thing indeed.

I don't finish my club project but I scurry off to Dad's. I get in the paper. He will only eat a bowl of cereal. I clean up after his coffee-making. I put his laundry in the dryer. I put his water and juice by his chair.

I go to the club. I do fifty minutes on the bicycle, reading yesterday's newspapers. I do a few sit-ups, some assisted pull-ups and these scapula squeezes that are supposed to strenthen my back.

I go home. I work on my club project some more, shower, dress. I call Dad. He says come see about him after the dentist. I eat some leftovers for lunch. I work on my projects and talk to one of my aunts on the phone about another aunt's knee surgery and other problems. Then I send that info out to other relatives.

I go to the dentist. Always dread that. I have my cleaning, get the speech about flossing more and get my free toothbrush.

I go by Dad's. He's heated up some leftovers for lunch and put away his laundry except for the things that need hanging up. I get him some water and juice and tell him I'll be back later to see about him and I'll stay over to get him up at out of the house in the morning.

I go home and finish phase I of my project for the club. I have some snacks, answer some e-mail. I'm not looking forward to spending the night with Dad, away from all my toys, the hubby, the dog. On the other hand, I would have to get up awfully early to also drive over there to get him. I get some stuff together and go over.

Dad won't eat any dinner. I eat some snacks and drink a little Jack Daniels. We watch TV and read and he finally goes to bed. I go to sleep in the guest room thinking it should have a lighted alarm and a reading lamp. I sleep fitfully, thinking about waking up (although I have set an alarm) and worried about the next day. I realize I've never slept in this house which I bought in 2000.