I spent last Thursday at the hospital.  Just like old times.  Only this time, Mel’s mom wasn’t there with me.

Mel had been complaining of some random pains in the upper body that moved around from one spot to another.  After a couple of months, she decided to see a doctor about it who told her she had gall stones.  Plural.  Really big ones.   Well, they had to come out.

She had endured these pains for a couple of months in silence – not wanting to spoil everyone’s day with yet another medical problem.  After her own bout with breast cancer five years ago and her mother’s unfortunate demise last year, she didn’t want any more medical issues to cloud the air.  Indeed, she refused to tell anybody outside of me and the kids.  (This blog does not count – nobody reads it anyway except for possibly one friend – Hey Daniel!)  Unfortunately, these things will not be wished away.  So off we went to the Natalie Ambulatory Surgical Center or whatever it’s called now.

The removal of a gall bladder is something you walk away from and is considered minor surgery.  Still, one cannot simply be complacent.  I sat by myself in the palatial waiting area and tried to read.  I’m a big reader and yet have never read any Jane Austen which is Mel’s favorite author.  I thought it appropriate somehow that I read one of those novels and we could talk about it.  Long sentences and big words do not frighten me although stories of women spending all their waking hours talking of marriage is not something I find riveting.  Still… it got me through the surgical wait. 

The surgeon came out afterwards in his ridiculous multi-colored do-rag that they all seem to wear on their heads and told me that everything went perfectly.  I had previously observed that the surgeon was a bit robotic in his personality but it occurred to me that this is exactly what you want in a surgeon – a matter of fact, detail-oriented way of working.  After it was done, and things had gone according to plan, he showed a bit more emotion so I guess he’s human after all.  She was sent home with an ice pack and a couple of prescriptions.  For the rest of the day and Friday, I stayed home with her even though she could very well have done without me.  I did fix a few meals, did the laundry, and did all the ironing – all of which I hate but that’s what you do when you are needed.  Even so, all this activity took me three days to accomplish what with all the procrastinating. 

And so here we are three days later.  She feels better but not perfect.  I guess that’s to be expected but I wish she would arrive at the point at which she actually feels good and stay there for awhile.  She’s about to run out of optional organs that can be removed.   Here’s hoping that she’ll be well for awhile now.

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