I know it has been some time since I have posted and that many of you have given up on me ever writing here again. But life has been so interesting lately that I can't help but share it with those that are persevering with me here.
Recently I had my appendix taken out and it was a life changing experience for me. I have been very close to this organ for many years, and I don't mind saying that I had more than an emotional attachment to it. Well, last week it became painfully clear that we had issues. I tried, like any man would, to give the situation time and hope that the relationship would work itself out. But after receiving professional counsel on the matter it was determined that my appendix was too ticked off to hear any talk of reconciliation.
So last Thursday I went to the hospital, had a very uncomfortable test that involved a tube, a bag of fluid and my large intestine, then was admitted into the joint with goal getting my appendix out in one peice. I was in a great deal of pain for a lot of that day, and that lasted until I realized that all I had to do was ask for relief. Once I asked I was given morphine. Morphine is great stuff, almost scary stuff. I have further proof that we serve a loving God after receiving the morphine. How can I say it to give it justice? Morphine is cool, it is great, if I could I'd take it everyday at eight. Well, not quite like that, but I did really appreciate the level of relief it provided at the time.
So they went ahead and made a little less of a man of me on Thursday evening. The surgery was performed without a hitch, but I did get a stitch or two. After the surgery is when things became really interesting though.
I was sitting very quietly and comfortably when my nurse, who happened to be somewhat attractive, enter the room. She walked up, gave me more medication (what a girl), and then very matter of factly asked me if I had passed gas yet. Needless to say, this was the last thing I expected to come from her mouth. I told that I hadn't and asked, "why do you ask?" To which she replied, "I was just hoping you had." She left the room at the point, leaving me in turmoil. I was wondering, "why would she want me to do that?"
Later on, she entered the room again and asked me the same question. And again, she left dissappointed at my answer of, "no I haven't passed gas." Even if I had I wasn't likely to admit it, that's just not something you admit to a good looking woman that's giving you pain medication.
Finally I figured she must like farting. So the next time she came into the room, and in an attempt to win friends and influence people, I could be heard saying, and I quote, "Anna, you'll be happy to know that I just passed gas." At this short sentence, the clouds parted and the sun could be seen to shine on me. Ah, the perfect woman. She was ecstatic, and even said so. I was at least comforted that she didn't take a long breath through her nose, cause that would have been just "too weird."
But my fairy tale wasn't to last; I was released from the hospital shortly after that. Apparently when one passes gas after a surgical procedure on their abdomen they are indicating that they are functioning again. So when I was thinking she was some kind of fart feind, I was sorely mistaken. She probably holds farts in the same contempt that all women do. Needless to say it was an education for me.
So now I'm back at work, and on the mend. None of my work magically took care of itself in my absence which is really the most depressing thing. I am not quite the man I was, but better for it. Harvest is starting soon and I'm planning on taking some vacation time to work it. So there may not be many/any posts for another long time, but I figured you all might be interested in the recent goings on.