“We’re not living through information” was my Dad’s response this morning to the usual barrage of difficult questions from a doctor evaluating how soon he might be ready to move to a unit that involves three hours a day of physical therapy.
Dad at the ranch
What’s your full name, what year is it, and where are you?
He knows the answers, but getting them to come out of his mouth is hard as hell right now. “We’re not living through information” is pretty accurate at this point. It’s pretty much the opposite of his day job as “Director of Data Acquisition” (or is it Data Processing?), but we know what he means.
Of course, the rest of us are living through information, which is coming from any one of the four doctors, three nurses, two therapists, or one dog who’ve dealt with him today…so far.