Not the Father's Day we were planning on, that's for sure.
So picture this. It's Saturday morning, early. You've just called your neighbor and had him drive your husband, who's been in agony for more than 15 hours, to the hospital, . The phone rings, you rush to get it, and hear your husband's voice, calm for the first time in a day, say to you, "I have a new best friend. Morphine.... Oh yeah, and I'm getting my appendix removed today."
Thank you, modern medicine for bringing relief to my husband, because those were some seriously crummy hours he spent. Of course, he's got a pretty awesome wound on his belly now, held together by staples, which the kids like to get a glimpse of at least twice a day. And of course, most of our summer plans have been put on hold at least briefly. I mean, if the man can't shower for a couple of days he certainly won't be taking the kids swimming for a while, and he's not allowed to pick up his baby again until mid August. Sorry, hand-built bathroom vanity, you're back on the waiting list. (You're so close, and you're so beautiful, you're worth the wait!) And I guess I'll be in charge of the tomatoes for a least of couple of weeks - I hope I can do them the justice that Troy did last year.
So, yeah. Troy's home, recovering bravely, and we're all grateful that his little appendix there stayed in one piece until we could get it out of him. By the way, he's the second of four people in our ward bishopric to have this happen in the past couple of months, so maybe the other two guys should be on the lookout. Is a preemptive appendectomy out of line?