Uncle Woodrow is in the hospital right now; he has a gall bladder infection and has to have surgery to remove it. I've been assured that the technique is not as invasive as say open-heart surgery, as the gall bladder is apparently not a major organ and one can remove it without major consequence. However, he's seventy-eight years old; gall stones have basically shot the thing to pieces and if it were to stay, then it would only become infected again. So, he's scheduled for for surgery some time in the next few days. I'll be looking over him for the duration, so you'll hear even less of me for the time being (hah!)
All I ask is that you keep Uncle Woodrow in your prayers this week as he deals with this. He's in good spirits to say the least, so I think he'll be all right.
Oh, and today's my birthday, Happy Birthday to me. Plus, Happy Birthday to Call Me Ismael, April 4. Peace!
Uncle Woodrow had the surgery today after further tests revealed that the infected gall bladder was gangrenous and was leaking pus. The doctor actually came out and said that the procedure was "difficult" (how often do you hear a doctor with over fifteen years of specialized training say a procedure was "difficult"?), but he's a tough guy and pulled through. He's resting easy in the hospital now and will likely be there for the week while they administer fluids, antibiotics and monitor his condition.
None of this has hit me yet, honestly. One of the best birthday presents I can ever have is having helped save my uncle's life. But it won't hit me until he's home and healthy.