Well, that was fun

Because we didn't feel like our December had been exciting enough yet, what with funerals and last-minute packing & traveling hundreds of miles, we decided it would be fun to cancel yet even more Christmas plans, and head to the hospital instead. Or rather, Tom's appendix decided that we would.  Tom had an emergency appendectomy on Christmas Eve. It was all we'd ever dreamed it could be, and more. Honestly, I was thankful that it was his appendix, because when he was lying on the hospital bed, sweating, shaking with chills and excruciating pain, writhing and groaning, I thought he was having a heart attack and was going to die in front of me. So I'll take acute appendicitis for the win.

We are blessed with wonderful family & friends, who have cared for us so lovingly through this. I admit that I burst into tears when my friend Keri walked into the surgical waiting room with a hot coffee & bagel for me, saying that no one should have to sit in that room alone. I think that was the first moment that I felt it was okay to stop being strong and just cry and admit that I had been scared to death.

{opening presents with Daddy}

I have not the slightest idea why God had all of this in store for us at this time, and I don't care. I was mad at first, since I was already grieving for my grandmother and really couldn't believe that this was happening less than a week later. But it is what it is, and it could have been so much worse. His appendix was about as bad as it can get before it ruptures, which it thankfully had not. He was able to have it removed laparoscopically, which shortens recovery time. And I'm so thankful it happened while we were at home, and not travelling. We went through that in Vegas when we lost Lily, and I never want to deal with a situation like that again. Thank God it happened after we had come home from the funeral, and before we were supposed to travel to my sister's house 8 hours away. (Which of course is cancelled now.)
Tom's recovering but in pain, and his throat is raw and hurting from being tubed during surgery. He's thrown up a lot today, either from the throat irritation or what feels like a lot of phlegm that's lodged in there. Not sure if that's a side effect from the vicodin or what, but he's a bit miserable. He's thankful though, as he feels a million times better than he did beforehand.
During Gram's funeral the minister said that she was faithful, courageous and loving. I have always felt that she was amazingly courageous, facing the loss of her young husband and going on to raise their children alone. She was strong and faced the hardships of life nearly always alone. My step-grandfather died three years after they got married. She never let anything stop her, and was always active, involved in her church, traveling all over the globe.
Gram left me this legacy of being a courageous woman, and I very much want to be like her. I feel like the past few days have been my very ungraceful initiation into that role. I see more and more how that courage comes from God, because I sure didn't feel it on my own. I just keep whispering these quick prayers, asking God to give me what I need to face it all. I was leaving the pharmacy this morning and when I turned the car on, 'Courageous' by Casting Crowns was playing. I cried, because it felt so affirming. He gives me strength, again and again. We were made to be courageous - I have that line from the song in my head, and I think it over and over.
Now someone stick a fork in me, because I am DONE.