Odd Days: Vegas Anyone?

My father wants to go to Vegas. And he wants to take the whole fam damily with him. Never mind that he can't walk, can't stay awake for more than two hours at a stretch, and requires dialysis every other day. While the blood in his veins is moving, he's going to have some fun or die trying.

So why am I bringing this up? Because my dad called me on his new handy dandy phone and asked me to help arrange the trip. First he wanted me to call all of his kids and find out if they would sign on to this adventure. That part was easy.

Then he urged me to find a *good* hotel in Vegas. Good enough that any reluctant travelers in the family would have a hard time turning down his invitation.

Next he wanted me to circulate some proposed dates for the trip. "So what do you think," he asks cheerfully, "next week, or maybe the week after?"

What he blithely ignored was how he might get to Vegas (medi-vac?), whether or not the Vegas dialysis center could squeeze him in to their schedule, and whether his doctor would sign off on the travel. I broached the doctor, first, knowing how much my dad likes and respects him. "I guess I'd better call Dr. L and get his permission to whisk you away for a few days."

He replied, "Dr. L? Why would you call him?"

"Shouldn't we check with him to see if it's ok for you to travel?" I asked timidly.

"No," he said.

Long pause. No conversation.

Finally he said, "I decide."

Am I actually related to this person? I surely hope so.