What was I saying about life not going as planned? Last night my brother was rushed into surgery to have his gall bladder (along with a 1.5 cm stone) removed. Well, “rushed” is a strictly figurative term in this case because he was actually kept waiting in pre-op for about 4 hours because of an emergency case. But they had only diagnosed the gallstone the day before and had him into theatre last night at about 8pm. I was there when he was wheeled back up to his ward to see him give his victory point of the finger and smile as best he could through an oxygen mask. I know what it feels like when you’re waking up from being under — those drugs are actually pretty good and you feel very relieved that it’s all over. Despite being pretty groggy he was joking around so much we had to struggle not to wake up the other patients.
We’ve decided that with news of Oma’s stready progress we can stick to our initial plan of leaving on January 11. We’ll probably just change our side-trip plans to get to Amsterdam earlier and stay a little longer. This will mean we can proably just get everything organised before our departure, although I have to say it’s getting pretty tight.