The Bed's Too Big

I think it was right about right this time ten years ago that Nettl came to Denver to live with me. The following August we moved to where we are now. That's approximately 3,640 nights, give or take, and of all of those we've spent only about twelve of them apart. Last night added to that number by one.

I was lonely, and I went to bed around midnight, waking up every hour and-a-half. Then, a great thunder storm rolled in and lulled me into some pretty good sleep until 4:30. I have to get up at six anyway, so here I am.

Nettl's surgery is scheduled for 8:00 this morning. I'll tag an update to the bottom of this post when she's safely out. She's already up. She left the following message on Facebook:

"It's four in the A.M. I've been resting pretty well considering that I'm in the hospital. Antibiotics have kicked in because my fever's gone and I'm feeling much better! Let's get this thing yanked out!"

More later...
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UPDATE 1:35 pm:
One of the concerns was that the doctor was pretty certain Nettl's gallbladder was so bad that he might have to make a full abdominal incision to remove it rather than use the usual laparoscopy method. The bad news was that the infection was so extensive that if we'd waited much longer, she could have been in danger of peritonitis, or even liver failure. The good news is that the laparoscopy worked. This means that her recovery period will be a matter of days rather than weeks and she will most likely go home tomorrow. What does all this mean? It means everything is good and that it all turned out perfectly. When she came out of recovery, she was chatty and happy. She's napping now, so I think I'll take this opportunity to do the same.

Thank you, all, for your friendship. It means so much.