Dad is asleep. He has his new pants on and his slippers. There is a company that produces great clothes for the aged and infirm. They have snaps in the back and back closings. I bought him a pair of slippers that will fit his swollen feet, with Velcro and flaps on the side. They are very easy to slip on. His hot water bottle has disappeared. He woke and Heather helped me put some clothes on him. He went back to sleep.
I wheeled him down to the Muskoka Room. I tried to wake him two times but there is an imperceptible shake of the head “No!” to food. I tell him I’d leave, but first I cut up his meat for him. He will not wake up much. Just dozes with his head on his chest. I moved his chair backwards. He keeps his head forward. When I brought dinner he slightly shakes his head no. He does not want any. It is a nice cheese-stuffed veal. I decide to cut it up for him and leave. I am so drained. I leave to talk to Mirabelle. When I came back, after saying good-bye to Mirabelle, there is a cute, auburn-haired PSW feeding him. She speaks to me through the glass and says he just started eating. I tell her that he is angry with me for putting him in this place. He ate some of his dinner as she gives him some attention. Good for her.