A dying breed

So far so good on this my second and final night in Wilmington. When I heard how sick my uncle Marty was, I really wanted to come see him. After all, at the age of ninety five and a half, there aren't that many years left. But after having his diseased gall badder removed the old fashioned way that is considered major surgery, surviving a large loss of blood and post op cardiac problems, I am thinking he may make it. He has done remarkably well. What a kind and thoughtful man he is, too. The nurse said he responded to her questions with something like "If it is not an inconvenience" and even in his weakened state shows concern for other people. Today he left ICU and was transferred to a floor bed. My cousins and I saw that he made the transition successfully, was kept warm, drank some water, got his glaucoma drops ordered, and when we left, he was lying quietly with a smile on his face. We also had to tell the staff that he will not complain. In difficult situations, we see the true character of a person.