so bernie is fine. he had his appendix removed last night at 12:30 am, lucky him, and he's now currently recovering.
last night i minutely freaked out, actually around 12:30-ish, thinking that if something had gone horribly wrong i wouldn't know. i wandered around the house for a while, debating as to whether i should wake my dad to ask for any developments, or let him sleep. in the end, i decided that if anything serious had happened that someone would have woken me up, and went back to sleep (though it wasn't easy; i was supposed to take amalea and brad to ikea at the crack o' dawn, and tried to get to sleep early, but my sleep cycle wasn't having any of it). thank god: had i decided to knock on dad's door i would have found that he wasn't there, but had gone to the hospital to sit with my mom while bernie was in surgery... anyway, his absence would have prompted a more major freak-out, i imagine, so it was nice to avoid that.
like i said, i was supposed to ikea it with amalea and brad, but i was called in for duty (not that i wasn't happy to do it) and had to call them at 7:35 to cancel. i'm sure it was obnoxious for them, but fortunately, sickness in the family, especially the immediate family, is one of those clear-all excuses. not that i needed an excuse, but, you know. i assembled a suitcase for bern with a bunch of stuff, including my major dvd collection and a small library of books. that was my way of dealing with it; my mom's way is to explain symptoms to the rest of the family--none of whom hold medical degrees--in full-throttle medicalese. i end up doing a lot of "what's that?" "oh, and that is...?" "and what's special about retrocecal appendicitis?" but i guess it's okay. dad likes to absorb impact for the rest of us... a lot of "everything's going to be fine," but not in a patronizing way, in a "don't waste your time worrying" way, which i don't mind so much. anna... well, who knows. she just keep plugging along.
as far as bernie goes, he seemed in high spirits. one thing that's dififcult to glean sometimes is how a person feels when you yourself are pain-free. he was on some grade-a pain killers, so for a lot of the time, he was very talkative and jokey, but every now and again he'd wince, and i'd say "oh right, he's just had surgery." he said he wanted to keep the appendix, but apparently they'd already incinerated it. maybe as an example to the rest of his internal organs: "you guys think you get ectomied and placed in a fancy jar of phermaldehyde to just hang out for all eternity, but this is what happens when you fuck up. not pretty, is it, tonsils?" anyway. he seems good, considering.
i on the other hand, am on the verge of collapse, so let this post serve it's purpose.
hasta mañana.
last night i minutely freaked out, actually around 12:30-ish, thinking that if something had gone horribly wrong i wouldn't know. i wandered around the house for a while, debating as to whether i should wake my dad to ask for any developments, or let him sleep. in the end, i decided that if anything serious had happened that someone would have woken me up, and went back to sleep (though it wasn't easy; i was supposed to take amalea and brad to ikea at the crack o' dawn, and tried to get to sleep early, but my sleep cycle wasn't having any of it). thank god: had i decided to knock on dad's door i would have found that he wasn't there, but had gone to the hospital to sit with my mom while bernie was in surgery... anyway, his absence would have prompted a more major freak-out, i imagine, so it was nice to avoid that.
like i said, i was supposed to ikea it with amalea and brad, but i was called in for duty (not that i wasn't happy to do it) and had to call them at 7:35 to cancel. i'm sure it was obnoxious for them, but fortunately, sickness in the family, especially the immediate family, is one of those clear-all excuses. not that i needed an excuse, but, you know. i assembled a suitcase for bern with a bunch of stuff, including my major dvd collection and a small library of books. that was my way of dealing with it; my mom's way is to explain symptoms to the rest of the family--none of whom hold medical degrees--in full-throttle medicalese. i end up doing a lot of "what's that?" "oh, and that is...?" "and what's special about retrocecal appendicitis?" but i guess it's okay. dad likes to absorb impact for the rest of us... a lot of "everything's going to be fine," but not in a patronizing way, in a "don't waste your time worrying" way, which i don't mind so much. anna... well, who knows. she just keep plugging along.
as far as bernie goes, he seemed in high spirits. one thing that's dififcult to glean sometimes is how a person feels when you yourself are pain-free. he was on some grade-a pain killers, so for a lot of the time, he was very talkative and jokey, but every now and again he'd wince, and i'd say "oh right, he's just had surgery." he said he wanted to keep the appendix, but apparently they'd already incinerated it. maybe as an example to the rest of his internal organs: "you guys think you get ectomied and placed in a fancy jar of phermaldehyde to just hang out for all eternity, but this is what happens when you fuck up. not pretty, is it, tonsils?" anyway. he seems good, considering.
i on the other hand, am on the verge of collapse, so let this post serve it's purpose.
hasta mañana.
posted by Charlie Beckerman at 21:15
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