My dad is a night owl. Some of my strongest childhood memories of him are between the hours of Johnny Carson o’clock and Wake-up-I-WANNA-OPEN-PRESENTS-NOW a.m. Many of my friends were convinced he is a vampire. They could be right.
In the spirit of late night spirits, the nurses turn on Letterman for my dad. The more familiar sounds, the better. I’d say the Late Show treatment is working, because today he woke up enough to have his breathing tubes taken out. He also asked my mom to give me a call (but fell asleep again before I picked up).
I’ll head over to the hospital later tonight to talk his ear off. He’ll be glad to hear all of your well-wishes.