December 19th, 2007


Mr Stone

Is history. Gone. Good-bye. In fact, procedure went well, in some ways better than expected. Mr Stone broke into four pieces when directly touched with the right tool. Two pieces fairly large, and the other two small. Small pieces fished out directly, or ground down and captured directly. Some concern about a pneumothorax initially (this would be air in a part of the chest it doesn't belong), but this proved not to be the case.

Morphine did not touch the pain post-op, and dilaudid and I got along much too well; I forgot to breathe. Silly me, neh? So fairly late before I left the PACU (recovery room). Been controlling things fine with Percocet since then.

Oh, and ichthyus if you get this in time the answer is Yes.
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I Think

That in my Mr Stone Et Cetera induced haze, I missed someone's Hippie Birdies Two Ewe. And I'm not going to sort through the list to find out who... sorry. Not the Designated Driver, nor the Designated Sorter tonight.

So, I will simply say Hippo Birdnests Two Everone! Yes, that will do it.

Didn't adjourn to the home front this evening. Needed another round of IV antibiotics and did not want to turn down. Also, just in case of repeat of breakfast (lunch stayed put, didn't eat all of it, wonderful Hospital food... dinner slightly better but still not all of it. Great way to loose weight, eh?), this keeps Herself from needing to clean up.

Much better. Yes.

Meanwhile, there's Santana and more on the iTunes, or I've DVD's to watch, and of course LJ to post and surf. And Mr Stone is history. So is Mr Foley. There never was a Mr Pneumo. And Percocet. Life is good. Mostly.