What day is this?

Ok, now I remember; it's Monday. A rainy one at that. The last few days have been busy. Setting up visiting nurses; meals on wheels and therapy for dad. The biggest problem was with his meds on Friday. Wrong prescribed dosage of Cumadin 5mg; which is a blood thinner. The twit of a nurse wrote take 2 tablets at 8pm nightly. It should have read: Cumadin 2 1/2mg (not 5mg) for a total of 5mg to be taken not 10mg total at night. Dad also was to start taking his Plavic and 325mg of asprin. Flag waving here. Both of these are to help thin the blood. Why in the world would he need 10mg of Cumadin. Called his family physican; oops no one left him know that dad was having surgery. (Orthro. doc should have sent a report and didn't) Family physican called orthro. doc and got things straight. All in all dad's a little off. Memory worst than ever. Probably after affects of the anesthetic. Walking good with a walker. He's really impatience. And so am I with him. He thinks he can do things like he did 15 years ago when he had his other knee replaced. Of course back then he didn't have heart trouble, and having a huge rupture that can't be repaired plus loss of hearing; and an extra tire in the middle. He doesn't want to admit he's older and that I know how and what to do whats right for him. He did admit to me today that he trusts my driving more than my middle brothers. I had to chuckle over that.
Yesterday I was in at dad's apartment by 7am to help him get ready to go to church. It takes us an hour for him to shower, shave, change his dressing on his knee and wrestle with the leg long support hose (this sucker is a boa constrictor) dressed, shoes on, things tucked in, and him in a chair til I clean things up. Ok, its alittle after 8am and church is at 9am and is twenty miles away. A knock at the door and my brother whom hasn't visited dad since a week before surgery came to take him to church. Apparently dad asked him on his last visit to take him. Thanks for letting me know. He could have gotten dad ready for church. He could have taken all the verbal shit that comes out of dad's mouth for once. No, its me that gets it all. My dad thinks this brother can't handle stress very well; and he can't handle the sight of blood. I say grow up! You're a grown man with 3 grown boys. Deal with it. But anyhow; I explain how to help dad in and out of the car and that dad isn't quite himself. Walk beside him or behind him just incase he stumbles. Yea, its like talking to a empty bucket. Also, make sure he gets dinner and is settled in before you leave. I figured he would be there til 2pm. Oh no, he was gone by 12. Church takes an hour for mass, drive twenty miles back, eat lunch out, drop dad off and he was on his way. Damn sometimes I wish I could do that. The other brother hasn't even called yet; to inquire how dad is doing. Such a close family we have. As far as I'm concerned it's just dad and I. I'll take the shit because he's my dad. Sometimes I wonder when he's gone who will I have?