Dad finally got the Wi-Fi up and running. I had 189 e-mail messages stacked and waiting.
So here we are, as close to the outskirts as one can get without actually being there. It turns out there
is bus service out here, but I have to call ahead to coordinate a stop, then transfer twice just to get into the city. All told it's a 3-hour trip, unless I want to get up at 7 in the morning. Then it only takes an hour-and-a-half. Forget about getting to Doc's on my own. That would take another two hours. I'd spend my whole day on the bus.
A couple bright spots, though. We got cable tv, I have both a television and computer in my own room, and we eat dinner together as a family four nights of the week. That last one is the biggest positive, considering we've never been good in the 'family togetherness' department.
One thing having my own computer and the privacy in which to use it has done is to stimulate my writing. Not just the poetry and fiction I dabble in, but also self-analysis. Overthinking every little thing works so much better when I can get it out to where I can see it and review it in sequential sentences. Doc and I will have a lot to talk about next session.
Speaking of which, he had his second surgery on Jan 7 and as far as I know he's doing well. No news is good news, right? My next appointment is scheduled for Feb 2nd. Because I haven't seen him since before Christmas, I am both dreading and looking forward to airing these issues I've newly articulated.