Vernon was on form again today, chatting about all manner of things, but the thing that tickled us the most was that he kept trying to take his clothing off.  His hospital gown, that is.  (I won’t post that photo…though I may save it for potential blackmail later.) 🙂

At the end of our our visit, when Maki and I mentioned we were going to leave for lunch and shoe-shopping (how do 12-year-old feet grow so fast?) Vernon tugged at his gown till he was as undressed as he could get himself, and despite all the catheters and wires sticking out of him, demanded I pass him an invisible gray tee-shirt by the edge of the bed.  He kept pointing at it —”THAT one!”—frustrated that I wasn’t helping him one bit.  He wanted to go with us, after all. Time was ticking and we didn’t want to miss the bus.

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As funny as this was, it was slightly heartbreaking for a moment.  He didn’t understand that he couldn’t walk, let alone leave the hospital.  He thought we were just being mean, treating him like a child and leaving him out of the fun, leaving him behind.

Soon enough, Vernon. You will be coming with us. Mark my words.

 

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