Today Invercargill has its Christmas parade at 2 pm. Maybe, just maybe, we can get R settled and I can go take pictures. The tickets arrive in a beautiful red NZ Courier pouch before I check out. I make it to the hospital in time for rounds, see the surgeon finally, but she doesn’t speak, not to me and hardly to R. The other doc agrees to discharge him after the physical therapist signs off on R’s crutching skills. R has to wear my pants with the side zippers – it’s the only clean thing left in the bag that will go over the cast. He gets breakfast, a shower, and now we need NOT to rush, since the new motel can’t take us before 1:00.