The gall!

So, my husband had to have emergency surgery this weekend to have his, and I quote his surgeon here, "Very Angry" gallbladder removed. That sucked.

What also sucked was sitting at home all day after hearing he was being driven to the emergency room (he was over an hour away at his grandfather's funeral. yeah), waiting for more updates while I played nursemaid to my children and unable to go be with him because of said nursemaiding.

Then, after waiting for six or seven hours, finally being able to go sit with him in the ER - where he was lying on a bed IN THE HALLWAY ALL FREAKING DAY - I then had to run back home to nurse my baby to sleep because she still won't take a bottle. (That just kinda sucked. I'd say a suck-factor of 3)

Oh, but then after going back to the hospital and waiting until after midnight to hear how his surgery went (Doctor vs. Angry Gallbladder. Doctor was victorious. Also, slightly full of himself because gallbladder was very, very angry. Grrrr.) I returned home, sent an email canceling our Super Bowl party for that Sunday, and then wearily climbed into bed only to have CC wake me up two hours later and then keep me up for two more hours because she was ready to PAH-TAY! Wheee! (Suck, suck, suckage. Suck-factor = 7)

And the suck went on - two overtired children who won't sleep, trying to visit husband in hospital but children were cranky due to overtiredness so that didn't work, begging children to sleep so mommy could just get a little rest before daddy came home and failing hard, husband not receiving all the care he needed because I wasn't there to remind nurses and doctors that, hello - you promised him more antibiotics and didn't give him any, and did I mention that my children wouldn't sleep which means I didn't sleep, which also means I've been working off of negative sleep? (suck-factor = reaching critical mass)

Also? We were told he can't lift anything more than 10 pounds for at least two weeks. That means no lifting the baby. *banging head on table* SUUUU-UUUUCK. (this suck-factor goes to 11)

But all that doesn't matter (much) because he's home and he's well and also more than slightly hopped up on Percocet. He lost one (very angry) gallbladder and gained a few more scars. He's alternately resting a lot and spending too much time working remotely. This weekend is slowly becoming just one more bad dream.

However.

Husband of mine? If you think for one minute that what would have been a relatively routine out patient procedure if you wouldn't have let the pain go on for so long is going to get you off the hook for taking care of the kids where you can or even picking up your damn dishes, you are sorely mistaken. They didn't remove your hands, bub. So if you are under the impression that I am going to follow along after you, picking up things in your wake... Let's just say your former gallbladder isn't the only thing that will be very, VERY angry. M'kay?

Now stop bogarting the Percs.