Cliff is home

I've been working on getting him to take some nourishment.  Per the doctor's advice, I bought some Ensure.  He was able to drink about two-thirds of a container last night, plus a little lower-sodium chicken noodle soup.  I've never heard of anyone who actually liked Ensure, but if he can force it down it will give him a lot of nourishment in a small serving.  The ride home was torture, and he had a hard time even getting out of the car once we were home.  Still, he is happy to be home, and I'm happy to have him here.  Today's challenge is to get him to take four five-minute walks inside the house.    
Our temperatures are going to plunge into the thirties today, so it looks like I had better cover up the two tomato plants and one pepper plant out in the garden one more time.  
I moved the two hens from their tiny chicken cottage to the chicken house (my old cabin) with the young chickens.  I'm sure there were some tussles and power struggles, but it's much easier to chore after them when they are all together.  Yesterday morning I went out before dawn with the flashlight to see which ones were on the roost, and NONE of them were, not even the grown hens.  So last night after dark I put the hens up there, and three or four of the youngsters.  This morning the hens and the little barred rock were the only ones roosting.  Cliff said, "Who cares if they sleep on the floor?  Leave them alone!"  
"Nope," says I.  "Chickens are supposed to sleep on their roost, and by george, that's what they are going to do."  

Update

The procedure yesterday went well, and didn't cause Cliff any more discomfort that he was already experiencing except for a sore throat.  I'll be heading back to the hospital in a few minutes.  
I finally realize the doctors don't quite know what to do with this case; all they can do is try one thing and then another, and hope something works.  They are only human, and they're doing the best they can.  I applaud their efforts.  I can sense the word "if" when they explain what they are doing, even though they don't say it.  I have heard them say "We hope..." a couple of times.  
I hope and pray Cliff's battered body will begin to heal so that he can regain his appetite and once again enjoy life.  
Yesterday while he was awaiting his latest procedure, he said, "I can tell, when the nurses touch me, which ones really care."  
God bless caring nurses.  
Meanwhile, I have to be careful where I touch him because so many places hurt.    
I do a lot of updating on Facebook because it's so easy to make a short statement there.  This entry is for my readers who don't have Facebook.