You would not believe how and where I spent my Sunday. Hubby is back at it. He thought so much of the service he received last Sunday, he decided to visit the ER again, but this time with a "hot appy." That's doctor lingo for a raging piece of rabid flesh otherwise known as the illicit appendix. If my Hubby didn't have bad luck, he'd have no luck; seriously.

His latest adventure began last night after eating a particularly delicious catered meal. Blaming the wonderful food and his overeating, he went to bed with a side ache and woke up with fever, pain and nausea. After a couple of quick calls to friends smarter than us, we decided it would be best for him to pay a visit to his second home (the hospital).

For whatever reason, Hubby has angered the wrath of God and He has decided to take Hubby out one body part at a time. It was pretty sad having to explain to nurses and doctors that he had just paid them a visit last weekend - especially when they were checking his circulation and noticed his swollen yellow and purple foot. It earned him a great deal of sympathy and I'm sure double the amount of chuckles he received.

After about four hours in the ER, listening to angry people demanding their psych drugs, children crying (actually screaming like banshees), and an elderly couple who didn't really seem to understand a lot of things unless it was tinkling around between the ice cubes in their scotch, Hubby was diagnosed with appendicitis. It was surreal how everything was hurry up and wait and then as soon as the results of his CT scan came in, things moved in fast forward.

I know poor Hubby was nervous because this was the first surgery he had ever experienced. Sure, he'd had stitches, staples, butterfly band-aids, casts, lost fingernails and gained numerous scars - but he's always been fully conscious for all these blessed events. The idea of being knocked out really scared him and it frightened me too. Thankfully, he's a strapping young fellow and we were assured he'd sail through with flying colors.

I guess I probably wasn't helping the situation by commenting whenever I heard strange sounds from the hallway, that it was the surgeon sharpening his scalpel and assorted knives. Hubby really doesn't know how to take a joke sometimes.

I was able to walk him to the OR door and give him a quick smooch and pat before they rolled him away. The surgery was only supposed to last one to two hours and the surgeon later proved to be true to his promise. The good news was that it didn't appear his appendix had perforated and shared it ooey gooey goodness with the rest of his internal organs. The surgeon was also able to use laproscopy which meant for much smaller incision sites and hopefully less pain during recovery.

Everything went just as planned and I was once again reunited with him in the recovery room. I know that Hubby tends to be a good-natured drunk (on that rare occasion he chooses to partake amongst the spirits) and I was very curious to see how he would react with high grade medical goodies. My curiosity was rewarded with such statements and questions to the male recovery nurse as:

* Did you add any inches to my, you know?
* Did it get enlarged?
* Was it in length? Or just the girth? I'd be really happy and I bet she would too (nodding to me with his eyes closed. I was just trying to record his goofy statements in my memory bank).
* Did I get a brazillian 'cuz it sure feels like I did.
* Where are my underwear?
* Some guy took'em off of me. I didn't like it. Not one bit.

After about 30 minutes of listening to him ramble about his junk, he was moved to a regular room and continued to sober up just enough to tell the nurse that he'd compare her skills to mine, since I refused to spend the night in the plastic recliner playing nursemaid. I'm sorry, but the idea of an empty bed and clean sheets was far too tempting. And on all honesty, I'm not even sure what skills he was talking about but neither did he is my guess.

I finally called it a day around 10 PM tonight, as I watched him drift in and out of a blissful morphine sleep. It's so cute to watch him snore with that medically induced smile on his face :-). I know he's in good hands and the nurses are taking fabulous care of him - but I miss him. You'd think after the past week he spent at home nursing a bum ankle, I'd feel a little relieved to have a night off, but I do love the little turd.

Do me a favor and ask me how I'm feeling at then end of this week; you may get a different answer.