After several years of every other month throat pain, Shana had her tonsils taken out today. I was scared. The whole tonsils thing didn't go well for Shawn or me. There's a 40 year old story about how my mother stopped a dumb nurse about to administer a life-ending second dose of something that would kill me in just the nick of time after my surgery when I was five. And Shawn. Shawn's doctor accidentally chopped off his Uvula during the process, leaving the poor guy Uvulaless. He grew up anyway, went to medical school and actually went in to practice with that guy (that turned out about as well as the surgery). So, anyway, even though it's a pretty minimal surgery, I was worried. Anesthesia always makes me nervous and Shana is, after all, all we've got. No spare. But the doctors were nice, seemed to do an effective, quick job and sent us on our way after a couple of hours to home where Shana spent the afternoon watching
and napping and taking Percocet and trying to force down some Jell-O and sucking on some some pretty cool lollipops with pain reliever in them. No big stories to tell. Just like I hoped.
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