If you are squeamish, skip this paragraph and move on to the next. I was somewhat prepared for the staple removal to be more lengthy than last time. Dr. P looked at my incision at the hospital and said, "Wow, Dr. M got a little 'staple happy,' didn't he?" Dr. M assisted Dr. P last time, and I was evaluated by Dr. M the week before delivery. While Dr. P is quite young, Dr. M has been around the block a few times, and he has that reassuring presence that only a lifetime of experience can bring. Therefore, I wasn't alarmed by the "staple happy" comment; instead, I knew if he used that many staples he probably had a reason for doing so. Of course, that doesn't mean I was excited at the prospect of removal. Dr. P's assistant made a quick job of removing them. Skip stood at my feet and counted them off. In all, there were 30. On the bright side, Dr. P's assistant said it is one of the best incisions she has ever seen. I may be in no position to compete in any swimsuit competitions, but I could probably take first place in an incision competition. On the super-plus-bright-side, staple removal is not really painful -- unpleasant, sure, but not painful.
During the drive to the appointment, the trek through the parking lot and into the hospital, through sitting in the waiting room, the appointment and all the way back home, George's eyes remained completely shut. He was sound asleep. We have made no progress whatsoever in getting the days/nights reversed. He spends his days downstairs with the girls but manages to sleep through any and all of their noise, play and the occasional fit. He is immune to any sound they can make. The only activity that awakens him is a bath. Otherwise, he is in a cocoon of sleep. Today we are taking it easy. No errands or appointments. George is having a sleep-athon.
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