"At night, the sporks pick on me."--Taco Bell Sauce Packet

So, once again, I'm late with updating my blog. But this time, I promise, I have a good reason. If your husband losing a body part is a good reason. I think it is.

Last week at this time, I was in Baraboo, Wisconsin, waiting for my husband to be released from the hospital after his emergency appendectomy. But let me back up a bit.

Last Friday, Greg had decided to head up to Wisconsin with all his buddies for a fantasy football draft, and I was relishing the idea of weekend of watching chick-flicks and reading books! Jane Austen, you're on my list. In fact, you ARE my list. : )

But then on Saturday morning, Greg called from Wisconsin and said that he wasn't feeling well, so much so that he was contemplating going to the emergency room. I told him to go, immediately. Just by the fact that my doctor-resistant husband even mentioned going to the hospital voluntarily, I knew something was wrong.

I got a call a couple of hours later from my brother-in-law, who, thankfully, was at the same draft along with several other good friends who were key in convincing Greg to go to the hospital. Brian said, "Greg has to have his appendix out. He's going into surgery at 1:30."

My response? "You're sh*tting me." Not very polite, and not something I normally would have said to him, but surprise apparently knocked my filter loose. My mother-in-law just had her appendix removed last month in an emergency surgery. Something in the air?!?

So, I called around frantically and got our pet-sitter lined up to come over and let out the dogs and got my brother lined up to handle the potty breaks that the pet-sitter wouldn't be available for, packed up the car, got cash and gas and headed up three hours to the hospital in Baraboo, Wisconsin.

The surgery was already done before I got there, and he came through it fine, thankfully. His appendix had not perforated, so they were able to remove it laproscopically. I spent the night in the hospital on Saturday night, which was...interesting. The staff at the hospital was awesome. They rolled in a bed for me and everything. But after listening to the guy down the hall upchuck violently for about the fifth time, I had to get up and close the door. I told my husband, "I hate hospitals, they're full of sick people." Which, as you know, for me as a borderline germophobe is very difficult. : ) I took a very long, hot shower with lots of soap when I got home. If I could have rolled myself around in the anti-bacterial, handwash Purell stuff, I would have done that too!

Greg is doing fine now. His incisions are healing up and everything. I asked him, freak that I am, if he got to see his appendix, like in a jar or something, once they took it out. He said no. I told him that I would have told them that I wanted to see it afterward and could they please save it? I mean, seriously, how many times in your life do you get to see something as mysterious as one of your own internal organs? Not often, right? I wouldn't want to keep it or anything, but just to see it. His response? "You're weird." And I said, "Yeah, but I was born this way, you voluntarily married into the weirdness that is me. " : ) He didn't seem to find that too funny.

So he's at home this week recovering and is doing much better. Thanks to everyone for the well-wishes, sudoku puzzles, cards and phone calls. And a HUGE thank you to Brian, my brother-in-law, and our friend, Troy, for getting Greg to go to the hospital. Appendicitis--another instance in life where machismo can kill you, if you're not careful.

OTHER STUFF
-Book stuff is going on. Will let you know as soon as I have something to report! : )

-I'm looking into getting a costume for RT in the spring, and now is the time to do it as Target has some cute costumes for grown ups. I'm thinking either the Tavern Wench or the Saucy Tavern Wench. This one also makes me laugh. If I had lots of money, I would be this. Arwen was always my favorite character from LOTR. Of course, in the "be true to who you really are," there's always this option. "So she sleeps above the covers. Four feet above the covers. She barks, she drools, she claws--" "It's not the girl, Peter. It's the building." : )