I hadn't talked to Daddy in a couple of days, because like I said, I'm trying not to breathe down his neck. But when I told him that today, he said, "I didn't used to like to talk on the phone. But now, I'm glad to hear the phone ring." I guess the apartment feels pretty empty. Although he says he's had plenty of evening activity: dinner with Anne James, dinner with Ruth Mason and of course, with family.
He had just returned from his appointment with the oral surgeon. The doc removed the stitches in Dad's tongue and said the biopsy was benign. So the bleeding tongue remains a mystery, but it's over. They keep telling Daddy he must have bitten his tongue, but I don't see how he could have bitten it in the middle like that.
I'll be in Dallas early November to work on that story for D. Till then, guess I'll call Dad more often.