I think I’ve tweeted some bits and pieces of this, but it deserves a post of its own. The last two weeks have been pretty crazy.
Two weeks ago, I was trying to make sure we had everything we needed in order to go to Disney World. I’m not one of those ahead-of-the-curve parents. I’m one of those oh-crap-we-need-milk-you-can-have-juice-with-supper-tonight parents.
And then my husband was awake all night because he didn’t feel well. By the time morning came around, he felt unwell enough that he tried to get in to see a doctor on a Sunday morning. And by the time he had managed to get an appointment, he decided he’d should probably just head to the emergency room instead.
I have to say, I was not particularly sympathetic. We had gone out to dinner the night before, and I had raised my eyebrows when he ordered a platter of fried clams, onion rings, and fries. “We’re not twenty anymore,” I reminded him.
So I was pretty sure that my husband had just driven himself to the emergency room for indigestion. (I did offer to take him! He preferred to drive himself rather than wait for my parents to come and watch the boys.)
A few hours later, they were still doing tests. And then rather quickly, they decided his gall bladder needed to come out. I was driving down the highway when he called and said, “They’re ready to take me into surgery. Is that ok with you?”
The surgery went well, and there were no complications. The next day, he had a fever, and the surgeon wanted to keep him in the hospital to make sure he wasn’t developing an infection. He spent three more days in the hospital, but thankfully there was no infection, and he was soon back home and resting comfortably.
He came home from the hospital a few hours before we were scheduled to go to Disney World. While he was in the hospital, I sat the kids down and told them we were going to have to delay our trip until after Christmas.
I was expecting a calamity. My five-year-old cries over everything.
“The yellow cup is in the dishwasher, you’ll have to use the blue cup.” Sobs.
“You wore the Spiderman underpants yesterday. Today, you can choose between Batman and Green Lantern.” Sobs.
This made me pretty sure that when I told him the trip to Disney, for which he’d been faithfully counting down the days every morning, was delayed, we’d have A Situation on our hands.
“That makes sense, Daddy. If Daddy Austin doesn’t feel good, he wouldn’t be able to have fun. We should go to Disney World when the whole family can have fun.”
What’s that on the floor? Oh, it’s my jaw.
We’re getting back into the swing of things now. Austin is probably returning to work this week, and he’s mostly resumed normal activities.
And no need to worry about Andrew’s newfound maturity. He cried about the available cereal choices at breakfast this morning.