My Thanksgiving took a turn for the suck last night - my grandfather went to the ER with somach pains and is going to be spending T-day having surgery on his gall bladder. I found this out at 1:30am when I woke up to feed the baby, so my grasp of the details is a little fuzzy, but I'm sitting here quietly freaking out while Dylan naps in the other room. He's 90 years old, so even the tiniest little health issue is pretty huge, and surgery is pretty un-minor. Gah.
(I've given up the iPod for now and have graduated to my mom's laptop. In case you were all wondering why this post had proper capitalization and stuff.)
Oh, Jessica, that's scary. Tons of ~ma to you all.
Much ~ma for your grandpa and for your whole family, Jessica.
Happy Thanksgiving to all!
Also, gronklies.
Also, Deb's new book, Still Life With Devils? Don't read it any time near bedtime. The scary creep factor in that book is not the friend of good sleep hygiene.
~ma for Grandpa
Happy Thanksgiving! I am grateful for the Bitches. Now time for my traditions. Watch Buffy, some parade, Alice's Restaurant. With coffee, and later Pie!
Kristin, funky crust means you didn't get store bought pie.
Ok, spoke to my mom who updated me with better news, which is that she talked the ER doc out of immediate surgery so he's now just being kept for observation. He may still need surgery eventually, but the hope is that they'll be able to stabilize him with meds so he can go home and (if necessary) have surgery in Cincy with his own doctors around.
Did I mention, GAH!
The gall bladder surgery they did on my sister the day before yesterday, was designed to be an outpatient surgery (she wasn't feeling quite right afterwards so they kept her overnight), and she will be back to work in 8-9 days. So if and when your grandfather's doctors decide it is time to take it out, please be reassured that they have made lots of advances in the procedure to make it a less painful, faster recovery.
Oh, Jess, your poor grandfather! That's no way at all to spend the wee morning hours of a holiday weekend. No-surgery-till-he-gets-back-home vibes to him, in abundance.
Your mom must be feeling like a zombie right now. A worried, stressed-out zombie. Possibly she should spend her Thanksgiving with her feet up and lots of cosseting.
Zmayhem report: We're going over to Emmett's mom's place, but there's still prep to happen. For now, dishes are all done, baby bottles washed (Matilda scorns the sippy cup, so we're stuck until she learns to manage a proper cuppy cup), champagne is chilling in the fridge, and I'm about to start the coffee and get dressed so I can be at the neighborhood grocery store right when it opens at 8 to pick up ice cream and a baguette and a bottle of fancy wine.
Last Thanksgiving, Matilda cried and slept and nursed and slept some more. This Thanksgiving, she'll be running all over, conversating up a storm and occasionally eating the same food we do. The tiny humans, they are improbable and lovely.
{{{Jess}}}
Much ~ma to your grandfather.
{{{Jessica}}} Health~ma to your grandfather.
I don't think I'll be eating much yummy Thanksgiving food today. My tummy's been upset for days, and it's not better today.
Just dropping in to say Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it and happy Thursday to those who don't. We are headed over to friends' house in a bit.
