I was at Sally's hospital from about 5:15 to 7:00 this evening; I started reading to Sally (Thurber's dog stories), but kept being interrupted by her nurse, Brett, who was working with a nursing student, so taking twice as long to start a new IV, etc.; finally, after six, I had finished the first story, a two-parter about Christobel, a black standard he had, part one written when she was about 7, part two when she was a still-healthy 14. Then I read her "The Scottie Who Knew All the Answers," one of Thurber's "Fables for Our Times," and just after I started "The Dog Who Bit People" Bibi (Sylvia's spelling, and I guess she should know) came in, and enjoyed the story with Sally, who was clearly enjoying it. Several others were there, and soon after I finished the last story I went home. Sally's breathing is good and we're hoping she'll soon be off the ventilator. Physically, I don't see much change since Monday--she still can't move her arms or hands, let alone feet--but look forward to more rapid improvement after she gets the plumbing removed from her nose, so she can talk again--and taste food again.

After I saw Sally, I went home where my wife was waiting and we went immediately out to dinner at our favorite Indian restaurant where as soon as we walked in I saw a familiar handlebar moustache: Dave Swan sitting with another woman. He introduced his mother-in-law, I introduced my wife, then Pam appeared with her father-in-law from the back of the restaurant and the introductions were extended. It was a very pleasant surprise. Dave said he and his singing partners (and, of course, Pam) were going to be at the Starry Plough Sunday night to do a few songs. I hadn't seen Pam in a couple of weeks, and Dave since before he picked up the amublance in Ahia and drove it to Piedmont via Dublin and Brisbane.

--seed