Irreconcilable Differences

After a failed attempt at mediation, my appendix and I agreed to divorce on the grounds of irreconcilable differences.*

When I informed the surgeon, the anaesthesiologist, and the nurses that 1) I was going home the night of the surgery and 2) I was getting on a plane to Montana a day and a half later, they gave me that half pitying, half humoring look that medical professionals are so good at.

Little do they know my cussed stubbornness.  Surgery was at 4 pm.  By 9 pm I was hungry, thirsty and irritable--ready to go home.  By 11 pm I was home, being greeted by one ecstatic dog and a quietly worried teenager.  (Younger boyo was already asleep.)

Waking up in my own bed was a joy.  The hardest parts are swallowing the horse pill they tell me is my antibiotics, and the sore throat from the anesthesia.  Sure, my belly is sore, but it's pretty manageable with motrin and moving slowly.

Maybe by the *end* of the week, I can do a few runs on the bunny slope. . .

(Yes, I know I'm insane, but a girl has to dream, right?)

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* My younger son has an app on his itouch on weird laws from all over the world. Apparently, there's a law on the books in NY that a couple can get a divorce for irreconcilable differences. . . but only if they both agree.  ROFL.