Day 38-41: swollen hands

Arrived back from France. My mum had left that day for a much needed break. I found my dad ensconced in front of the telly. It was strange - dad didn't seem to be particularly pleased to see me. Maybe he, too, felt I should have been around for when he first came back home. He was tired.

Also, he probably thought that once he was home, everything would be perfect. He would feel better, he would recover quickly, there would be lots for him to do. So when things don't turn out that way, it can be disappointing.

His left hand is quite swollen. It actually looks more healthy than his other hand - it's fatter, the skin is tighter. But it's unnatural and we're not sure what to do about it. I reckon that the hand massage therapy probably kept the swelling at bay whilst he was in the hospital, but here - well, there's simply no time to give 2 hours of massage a day.

My brother and his daughter were over and we had dinner together with my brother's wife. That cheered my dad up.