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By now, my family had developed a routine. Now that I was again comfortable in his presence, my father would arrive in the morning, feed me a breakfast of yogurt and cappuccino, and play a few games of cards that I was often too disoriented to follow. Then he’d read aloud a book or magazine or just sit beside me quietly reading James Joyce’sPortrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Every day he brought homemade gourmet foods like my favorite dessert, strawberry rhubarb pie, although I would often hand over my father’s dishes to Stephen because I still was not eating regularly. My father had grown up watching his mother, an Irish nurse, whip up elaborate dishes in between ER shifts, and, like her, he unwound when he cooked. Not only did it help me through those hospital days, but it also helped him concentrate on something besides the bleakness. Russo wrote down“too tangential and disorganized to give us a full history” and continued with her exam. “I’m going to ask you some basic questions, and you do your best to answer them, okay? What is your name?” side effects nexium 20mg

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