The Gall Of It All

Loren and I are safely back home. The children are all in one piece. Therefore, the past two and a half days are considered a success.

I was hoping to be able to describe Loren's gall bladder surgery in great gory detail, but alas, there seems to be some silly rule concerning spouses in the operating room.

Originally, we were told that he would not be first on the docket for Tuesday's surgery list. So you can understand our dismay at discovering we had to report to the hospital at 5:45 a.m. It appears Loren was indeed top of the list. The disadvantage to this, of course, was my having to get up at 4:30. (sorta puts an 8:00 class into perspective, don't it?) The advantage was a vast selection of available parking spaces in the underground garage.

Much waiting, and many health history questions. The operation finally got underway (so I was told) at 8:38 a.m. Everything went very well, though Loren had to spend a little extra time in recovery due to a low core temperature. (the operating rooms are kept at 60 degrees)

Meanwhile, Pastor John had come up to keep me out of trouble and hopefully see Loren. The latter was not to be, however, since the whole process started later and lasted longer than expected. In the meantime, we conversed on many topics, solved many of the world's problems, and sketched out several sermon outlines for the coming months. (just kidding, of course. Now, if he had asked ...)

After surgery commences, the hospital shuttles family and friends off to the patient's room, except, they couldn't figure out where to put Loren. Pastor and I were taken to four different floors until they settled on the Intensive Care Unit where they had the proper heart monitoring equipment. (Loren has always been something of a problem :-) The room was not ready, though, so we were herded back to a special waiting room. It was then that I discovered I had left my cell phone five floors below. (sigh) Pastor John was good enough to fetch it for me. Finally, a chance to settle in, eat chocolate and discuss the burning topic of the day, "Libertarians: going to heaven or hell?"

At long last I got to see Loren and feed him ice chips while he gazed at me with that look, "Are you an angel, or what?" (this is my interpretation, ok? anybody got a problem with that? good.) He discovered he had a few sore places, four to be exact, and maybe this surgery business wasn't what it was cracked up to be. Some pain medication soon remedied that.

After I returned from an errand, Loren seemed more himself and said he had a present for me. In a small white box, resting on a pristine piece of white foam, lay two gallstones. Really, I was too moved for words. My contribution of birthing 10 children seemed rather pale in comparison. (five were over 9 pounds and another was 11 pounds, but who's keeping track?) Now I have to decide what to do with the little buggers. (gallstones, not kids) I could have them made into a bracelet, or necklace, or possibly inserted into the eyes of a cameo. Of course, the most logical thing would be matching earrings. But since they aren't the same size and my ears aren't pierced, I guess that option is out. I'll have to sleep on it. An important decision such as this cannot be rushed.

Well, TEMPUS FUGIT, and all that rot. I shall leave you with this lesser known Irish blessing:

"May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. And may you never, ever be called an *economic girlie man.*"

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