Due to some trauma from a childhood accident, I’ve gone in once before for an endoscopy procedure to clean a few things out, and on Tuesday, December 17th I went in again. In-and-out, home the same day, back to work the next. Not this time, I actually spent a few days working from home, but I was fine with a few extra days of recovery. Not getting any younger, and all that.

But I was doing fine, doing housework and all, so on Sunday I sent Katherine on a plane as previously planned to go see her family in Buffalo, NY. On Monday, I felt good enough to take the vicious pit bulls on a very short walk. On Tuesday, Christmas Eve, I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down to call my parent around noon. After that, I planned to…oh, I don’t know, maybe I’ll put those bedroom drawer sets together. 90 minute phone call and coffee means, whoo, better hit the head before I start on those drawers. “Uh, oh. I don’t think it’s supposed to do that.” A trip to the emergency room was definitely in order. But first I had to keep my head about me long enough to secure the dogs, and secure the house. I needed to throw some shit in a bag in case I ended up staying. They’ll give me clothes when I get there, but I needed a lithium-ion battery bank, iPad, phone, watch, and Kindle, with all the cables for charging. Priorities: it gets boring in the hospital.

You know you’re not going home that night when the ER doc takes one look and says, “Oh, wow. That’s not good.” Though it seemed inevitable, I waited until it was confirmed that I was not going home to institute the pre-planned Dog Daddy Goes to the Hospital Protocol. Katherine had folks on tap to do the needed tasks for the little monsters. Our housekeeper is quite familiar with the dogs, so she was willing to do it. Except the first step was getting hold of Katherine to fire all this off. This happened, of course, during church service meaning it was two hours before that got taken care of.

But taken care of it was, just not by the housekeeper. Our neighbors across the street, with the kids that help us walk the dogs, came over instead. With remote cameras, the one bright spot in that day was watching the dogs welcome them in, and everything getting taken care of like getting fed and let out. Alright, one thing was checked off the list.

Surgery was scheduled for the next day. Katherine in the meantime was trying to find a way home. On Christmas. At the last minute. Somehow Southwest Airlines pulled that off, and had her in the hospital fast enough to see me come out of surgery. BTW, it used to be when you came out of surgery they made you scooch, scooch, scooch over from the gurnery to the bed. Now they use a giant air hockey table to slide you over.

Now that I’m safely out of surgery and in my bed, we’ll tune in tomorrow to find out the rest.

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