Actually, after I posted, the COVID desk called and they relented. I'm already positive, it's been 11 days since HE infected me, that was finally recognized as a low-risk matter.
It still sucked. The Covid rooms are jerry rigs, like being inside a jet engine with the blowers going. But Dad was reasonably aware and a lot less miserable. I briefed him on where he really was and his real situation, and he pondered then gargled out that was why he'd signed the directive in the first place. So then talked about the bad things we got away with together. I sat him up and we looked out the window talking about what good flying weather it is, how nice it will be at Arlington next spring, then basically just side by side until he said he wanted to go to sleep. Nurse and I tucked him in again, I went full military, requested permission to take my leave, permission granted, departed.
Hopefully his departure will be smooth and swift.
