My wife’s gall bladder surgery took place at 8:00 this morning.

In my life, I have rarely felt as powerless and weak than I did sitting in that waiting room. Although I understood what was going to happen and trusted everyone involved, it was hard to sit there and hope that someone wasn't making a big fuckup just a few yards away. I sat through offensive morning network shows blindly, only noting the little clock that perpetually hovered in the lower right of the screen. The nurses were extremely nice to me, and put up with my constant desire for information with kind smiles and reassuring conversations.

Much earlier than I expected, I was abducted from the waiting room by the surgeon, who ushered me through secret antechambers to my wife, fresh from the operating room. The surgeon said that the procedure went very well, and she should be back to normal in a week or two. The hospital staff kept her there for another couple hours, keeping track of things and making sure she came away from it okay. My wife was tended to by the same nurse I had on Friday for my vasectomy, and I believe this made things a bit easier for both of us.

Although she could have stayed overnight for observation, my wife decided to come home to heal. She ended up with four incisions: one just below her belly button, and three in a small arc just below the right side of her rib cage. It seems a bit silly that the apparent results of invasive surgery can all be covered in band-aids, but this it the amazing technology of good laparoscopic surgery. In the few hours that she has been home, she's regained most of her color and her appetite, though sitting down and getting up are proving to be a bit difficult. I've been trying my best to fulfill her needs without being overbearing or panicky.

Once again, I want to thank everyone for the messages of support throughout this whole ordeal. Your kind words have been very comforting for both of us.

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