The other day Angela went to the hospital for a little bit of surgery.  This surgery required her to go under for a bit which meant that I would have to be there for a while. Really, I don’t mind hanging around the hospital. I have an affinity for hospital vending machines.

Really, who doesn’t love vending machines that have sandwhiches in them?!

Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the vending machines. I went to the cafeteria for breakfast instead. I was pretty amazed at how hospitals have changed. The cafeteria was next to the lobby, which had a concierge. Behind the concierge was the entrance to the garden. Back in my day a hospital was pretty much walk in, talk to nurse, wait. And sandwich vending machines. These days you have gardens, huge gift shops and a cafeteria that has a grill to cook whatever you want, a kick ass breakfast buffet and a Starbucks kiosk.

Mmmm…breakfast…

Anyhow, I thought I would be ok being in the hospital. For the most part I was. When Angela came out of surgery she was laying in one of those bionic beds that can go up and down at the press of a pedal. While I sat there talking to my woozy wife I caught myself looking at the bed. That’s when all the  memories of my dad came rushing back. And that’s when I started to tear up and almost start bawling.

For those of you not in the know, Dad died last year. We were lucky that he lived so long after his ordeal in 2000/2001. To cut a long story short, he was in an Intensive Care Unit for 6 months at the Portsmouth Navy Hospital. My family pretty much made camp in the waiting room; we had someone there every day and every hour for those 6 months. We watched as he fought for his life, technically losing that fight at least 3 times.

And there he was for those 6 months, in a hospital bed.

Seeing Angela awake and talking and smiling made me happy. Seeing the hospital bed almost made me lose it. I didn’t think that I would have that kind of reaction.

Man, I miss my Dad. Happy Valentine’s Day, Dad.