Just What The Doctor Ordered

The Russian went in for a planned surgery last week. There were vital organs involved, and the whole thing scared the bejesus out of us.

We had some time to prepare for it, but going under the knife is treacherous business. 

Hospital shenanigans, meds, dietary needs, post op recovery…you can make all the plans in the world (and back up plans), but in the end, it's more of a go-with-the-flow kind of thing. 

A bleary-eyed, forgotten meals, stomach-in-knots kind of thing. 

It's only been in the last two days that we've felt a little closer to normal - The Russian's color has returned, and my head is right again. 

And, coincidentally, the sun came out. Fitting, and so very needed. 

We fled to the Skagit Valley tulip fields, leaving The Russian behind to rest up without the constant jostling of all his little babies, God bless 'em.

It was a good day. The best kind of day. And if The Russian had been with us, it would have been the perfect kind of day.

Just what the doctor ordered.

And next year, I won't be leaving my favorite guy behind.