Eleven hours ago Holly and I drove into the hospital, got checked in, and settled down in the waiting room to (guess what?) wait. Both sets of parents came, and a pastor friend came as well, and we waited some more. Holly was admitted into pre-op about forty minutes after we got there; we were allowed to see her for a bit just before nine, and then she was ushered into the operating room. The entire procedure took about an hour, and the surgeon told me it went great, no problems, no complications. Now the remarkable thing, I think, about this surgeon is he took some time to investigate a secondary problem Holly has been recently complaining about. This was a quite a blessing because he was able to take some good pictures and diagnose the problem better than the ultrasound she had last week.

Rip van Winkle can't hold much of a candle to my wife, which is to say she loves to sleep, and so we waited, and waited, and waited, while she enjoyed a nap of epic proportions while in recovery. They stage the recovery, the first stage being for nurses only, and they wanted Holly to be waking up, breathing normally, and having a normal heart rate before she could be moved on to Stage Two (which is where we got to see her). The poor thing just wanted to sleep, and that was perhaps due in part to the large dose of morphine they gave her during the first stage of recovery.

Holly is now home and doing well. We've got home recovery ahead of us, but Linda (her mom) is staying with us this week, so Holly should do well, and we can share the burden. Thank-you for your prayers.