Poop! Come visit!!!

Hi all!

You will be happy to hear that the duty train has begun to move on its tracks, and the cars full of coal are able to reach their grand porcelain depot. Several cars, in fact, each one with about a teaspoon of coal or raw liquid coal ore.

The king is sitting on his throne, multiple times, round the clock.

And the vomit comet has ceased to streak through the sky.

Lest you think the next line here is that there is snow on the rooftops of St. Petersburg this time of the year, I should clarify.

In layman's terms, Scott has quit barfing, started pooping, and is feeling much better.

He's actually a trifle bored at Kaiser just now, and would welcome any visitors. He's even gotten moved to a private room (3102 I think) on the third floor, so his cranky roommate (with the bickering sons, the neurotic wife, the high-volume TV, and the missing bladder) won't be an issue. So visit, call, send him an email - he'd love to hear from you because he can't take too much more of us.

We were there this morning. The girls brought six little packets of Smarties (which they wouldn't share with him). They consumed his juice boxes and jello (he's allowed back to a liquid diet and is smart enough to just give them up easily and ring the nurse for more when we leave). They took away the dead flower they brought him yesterday. They almost pulled out his IV twice and for sure sat on his surgical incision once. They put sticky fingerprints all over his window, and inflated several surgical gloves. And they did all of this in about a fifteen-minute visit, while the nurse was trying to change his IV, clean out his tray, bring him some socks, and scan his wristband, and I was trying to contain them in his room without raising his comatose neighbors on the postop recovery floor.

The home front continues to fartknock along. They slept till 7 this morning, which was most excellent.

I, continuing my state of excess, had some organic wheatberries in soy milk with frozen organic blueberries for breakfast, and topped it off with a very large cup (a pint? a quart? a gallon? who's counting in this land of excess?) of coffee and an indeterminate amount of chocolate chip cookie dough. I eat my cookie dough furtively from an opaque plastic container so I don't have to share any with the girls. They are eating enough Smarties (we got the 2-lb bonus pack yesterday at Target) to keep their blood sugar plenty high without needing my cookie dough also. Last time he was in the hospital I got way too thin, so I look at this cookie dough for breakfast as sort of a preventative measure. Perhaps this time I will manage to get way too fat. I have been both and let me tell you, fat is better.

So ta ta for now - we're all wishing Scott happy pooping, and I'm happy he's feeling better.