A Personal Note

SWMBO is scheduled for surgery this week, and I'll be spending much of my time for the next week with her welfare uppermost in my mind. In fact, I'll be her honored handmaiden ... er, hand-geek ... for the days immediately following the operation. She won't be moving around much for a while.

It's not a matter of great worry; the prognosis is good and it's not a life-saving or experimental procedure. But she will be unable to work for four to six weeks and, as is common with surgery, she will will be confined to home even after she feels like getting up and moving.


As a consequence, we won't be around much for a while.

Whether this will adversely affect my blogging in the immediate future (post-Wednesday), it's too early to tell. Chances are I'll have little to do while she's imitating a couch potato, which may result in more time to write.

However, if the blogging drops off for a while ... well, you'll know.

We've already received the best wishes from many of our friends, and I'm sure those of you who know SWMBO understand that she is indomitable.

SWMBO is the strongest person I know, man or woman, and I have every confidence that she'll be back on her feet in record time.

I can't wait until I again see her RO-ing a stage and calling to the squad:

Hey, you guys! Get off your ass, get out here and tape some targets, will ya?

Why do you think we call her She -- Who Must Be Obeyed?

UPDATE: 26-SEP-2007:
I'm finally back from the hospital, having left SWMBO half-dozing after a dinner of Raspberry Jello, water and Percocet. Her surgeon was pleased with the results of the operation; SWMBO is less pleased, uncomfortable, and receiving close and gracious attention from her nurse Jean and CNA Lalala ... who check on her every 15 minutes to make sure she's as comfortable as they can make her. I stuck around for five hours holding her hand, wiping her brow, receiving a lovely bouquet sent by her younger sister, phoning everyone in her family (and the people at her office) to let them all know that she is okay.

Last night I took her out to dinner, where she was unable to finish her Salmon salad. She had the waitress bring her a box so she could take the more-than-half of the salad home. I hope she feels like finishing it tomorrow, when I bring her home. I doubt it; we'll probably end up throwing it all out. I'll take her back in a few weeks and see if she has a better appetite when she isn't facing surgery the following day.

Me? I'm perhaps almost as glad as she is that the operation is over with. There are still weeks of recuperation to get through, and I'm aware that this extended period of inactivity will grate on her nearly as much as did the surgery.

We are grateful for the good wishes of her friends who have kept her in their thoughts and their prayers. We give thanks to God for his beneficence, and for the medical system which renders major surgery no more traumatic than much worry, some physical discomfort, and a quiet period of recuperation.

It wasn't that long ago when this would have been a life-threatening situation. In some places, it still is.