It was wrong to praise those ambulance nurses yesterday: in an attempt to lower my father's blood pressure, they gave him something too strong, and the pressure dropped from 150/something to 110/something within minutes.
This must be the reason he got delirious later; his delirium was tennis-themed, something about someone not letting his teenage students in to see some important game - he was trying to convince someone that this was the only way for the kids to learn, etc., and mama had, at some point, to start playing along: she told him the game was already over.
It is heartbreaking.
Mama spent the night at the hospital, in a six-bed room with only two other male patients in addition to my father. He is much calmer now, so the night was calmer than the previous one at home, too. She's still there, waiting to get the doctor's opinion.
Marta and I were home alone with our two black cats last night. Funny how our apartment has always felt way too crowded, but yesterday it was so uncomfortably empty. I must've changed since Marta's birth: I used to love having the whole place to myself, but not anymore. Or perhaps it's because the reason why everyone's away is so different now.
Marta woke up around midnight again and stayed up till around 2 a.m. This totally screwed up the translation I was doing for Global Voices: by the time I managed to get back to it, I was too sleepy to think or care about what I was writing.
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