"Wash, you can't go outside, it's hot and wet right now. You need to take your pills first."
"No! No wanna go out! The... the... stuff, the outside stuff; our FURNITURE! Is it gone?"
"What? Why would it be gone?"
"It's a YES OR NO ANSWER TASHI, IS OUR BACKYARD STUFF GONE?"
"I don't understand why you think it would be gone...."
"THE STORM. THE STORM TAKES STUFF. DUH, TASHI."
He goes and looks out the window.
"SEE??? You could have just said, 'No'." [everything is EXACTLY where it should be outside]
I just... what?
Waiting for his meds to kick in and the Hospice nurse to arrive.
How's everyone else's morning NOT dealing with brain cancer?
For reference, nothing has EVER gone missing during a storm for us. The umbrella gets knocked over, but nothing
goes MISSING. And I took down the umbrella earlier.
I'm wondering if he thinks it is Summer 2011 when we had our things STOLEN from the backyard?