We're starting another week with Dad in the hospital. He has moved to a new room, the first with a roommate.
I don't know anything about the roommate, except that we call him "the moaner." He's one of those people who moans all the time he's awake. "What do you have to do to get some help around here?" "Why am I still here?" "Isn't anyone listening to me?"
Oh yeah. We're listening. How can we ignore you? The whole time we visited with Dad last Saturday, this man moaned. At dinner that night, I explained to the girls about Grampa's new roommate. They thought it was hysterical. They started talking like that with every sentence drawn out into a low, slow moan. It was pretty funny.
Sunday they came to the hospital with me. They were disappointed that the roommate wasn't moaning, but sleeping. The girls told Grampa about school, piano lessons, ice skating, etc. We had a nice visit with Dad until the moaner's family came in.
It turns out the moaner is nearly deaf -- or at least I assumed he was nearly deaf as his family spent the entire time yelling at him. We left shortly after his family arrived. It's impossible for us to visit when the people next to us were screaming.
Now, you'd think that the screaming and moaning would bother Dad, but it doesn't. He simply turns off his hearing aids.