Phone call (2 of 2): coffee
"They're checking my blood sugar levels all the damn time now. If it goes above 200, they come in and give me a shot, and if it drops below 100, they bring me food and make me eat."
He stopped for a second or two. I heard indeterminate noises; I think he was eating.
"Those shots hurt, you know. Had four of them in one day a couple of days ago. I don't particularly want that again."
He laughed."I've about figured it out, though. Mom found where they're keeping the coffee pot. It's just a couple of doors down from my room. I can pretty well avoid the insulin shots if I don't put sugar in my coffee. So I get your mother to get all the Sweet&Low packets she can, and I put those in my coffee."
"Is the coffee pretty decent? If it's not, you could get Mom to bring up that little travel-sized coffeemaker I got for you a couple of Christmases ago."
"Nawwwwwwww. The coffee's pretty good, actually. They've got plenty of creamer and stuff like that. As long as your mom brings me the Sweet&Low packets, I'm all right. Gotta have my coffee, you know."
I just keep having these visions of Dad with two IVs; the morphine drip in one arm and the coffee drip in the other. Somehow, I don't think he'd mind that needle quite so much.