As good as it gets

The news on Nel is as good as it gets. None of the possible tricky bits happened -- it had not spread at all, it was one tumor in one place. It was not located near anything she couldn't live without. They did not have to take out her whole pancreas, they were able to leave her the top part which is evidently where insulin is produced. So they think her diabetes will not be made worse because of the surgery.

They took out her gall bladder, a bit of her stomach, a bit of the duodenum, and then stitched it all back together. She did not have any of the complications which might have happened either from surgery or anaesthesia.

Paul and Ernest spent much of the afternoon at the hospital, mostly waiting for Nel to wake up as I gather. But they did get to talk to her, and the surgeon, and her internist and so on.

The kids and I went into town on the bikes and went to the park and colored easter eggs and then hid them (just a warm up, you know) and made dinner and played with trains. So I haven't seen Nel. I expect we will see her tomorrow.

The thought of Thing Two loose in an ICU unit makes me faint. I have declared that if he has to go into ICU, he is going in arms and his feet are not touching the ground, not even once. He is faster than a striking snake and he does not ask "Mom, what's this thing?" before he tries to dismatle it. I mean, maybe it's just my adrenaline talking -- I assume they have back ups and so on. But I just keep imagining some bad movie scene in which my four year old plays the starring role -- grieving family, heart wrenching decisions to be made regarding life support, preschooler, um, resolving the problem without further consultation. Sound of flatline and echoing "code blue"s in the background while winsome blond child looks at the end of a power cable he has just pulled out of the wall.

You guys know him. Don't even try to tell me it couldn't happen.