September | 2019 | Andrea Unsinkable

Monthly Archives: September 2019

Saving My Photos

Posted on September 29, 2019 by Andrea 2 comments

It’s only a few weeks before we leave for Arizona. This will be a 2^nd round of moving our possessions there. One lesson I learned was not to pack all the kitchen stuff too early, or not to pack all the clothes too early. I want to be ready when the time comes to go, and I don’t want to feel pressured doing last minute packing. A couple weeks ago, I pulled out my largest suitcase, and I packed up the majority of my clothes. I left enough to wear for the next few weeks. What I forgot was that the temperature may take a dip or two before we leave. Yesterday, I opened that suitcase to pull out some sweatpants and cool weather clothes. I didn’t pull much—but I do need something in case we have a few cool days and evenings.

I also packed the kitchen a couple weeks ago. The cookware I have in Missouri will not work on my induction stove in Arizona. I have cookware there, so I left the dishes and the cookware, but I packed things I don’t use often. The other day we had some peaches that needed to be used, and I promised Dennis I would make a peach pie. I went to the kitchen and made the dough. Then I remembered I packed the rolling pin. I have not closed any of the kitchen boxes because they all have a couple inches on top. I figured I could throw in the utensils and other small items before we go. I could not find the rolling pin. I knew it would be on the top of one of the boxes, but I was having no luck finding it. Frustrated, I walked back into the kitchen, and prepped the peaches, and while doing so, I calmly thought about which box I would have put the rolling pin. I then walked right over to the boxes that line the walls of the dining room, and picked out the rolling pin. Crisis averted!

I have decided not to pack any more of the kitchen. I will wait until a few days before we leave. I went to the closet upstairs. By the way, there are closets everywhere in this house. We actually had a prospective buyer look at the house and say there was no storage in the lower level. Yes, the lower level, otherwise, known as the basement, is ¾ a finished walk-out basement. As one comes down the steps, there is a huge walk in closet. There is a kitchen down there with a ton of cabinets. The unfinished part of the basement has three sets of shelving, and a big walk in area under the stairway. I tried to imagine what he would be storing in the basement that would not fit into any of these storage areas. I think sometimes prospective buyers are not interested in the house for one reason or another and they make up an excuse to the real estate agent that may or may not make any sense.

Back to my upstairs closets . . . There are two linen closets in the upper level, not counting walk-in closets in each bedroom. In one of the linen closets I stored miscellaneous stuff that I brought with me when I married Dennis and moved to the house. In this closet are boxes of photographs. About half of them have been digitized, and the other half still await. When I digitized the first half, it took hours upon hours setting the photos on the flatbed scanner of my printer. It literally took forever. A couple years ago Dennis purchased a high speed photo scanner that has a sheet feeder. This scanner will scan two sides at one time. So, if the photo has writing on the back identifying the people, it is also scanned. Each photo going through the scanner takes about a second or less to scan. They just zip right through.

I scanned well over a thousand photos this week. The timely part was going through each one after the scan was done. I have a MacBook Pro, and all Apple computers have a photo program that allows you to identify people. It is similar to “tagging” people on Facebook. I go to a photo and I type in the person’s name. It makes a file with those photos. When I want to see photos of a certain person, I go to the “People” tab in my photo program and I can click on one person, and every photo I have of them comes up.

I spent most of the time in the scanning process tagging the photos and also adding the date when taken if it was written on the back of the photo. Then I could delete the photo backs because all the information was on the photo.

This project made me smile all day. I found photos of family and friends I didn’t remember taking. Some were funny, some just brought back memories of time spent with friends of my past.

I also did the unforgiven. I threw away a ton of photos. They were old. They were of scenery that I don’t remember. They were also of people I don’t remember. Most were people from my college days. I had names on the back that identified them, but even looking at the names, I just did not remember them. Other than a small group of friends from college that I have kept in touch with over the years, the other photos were tossed. Is that bad? It almost felt sacrilegious to toss these photographs.

I went back and forth on the decision to toss photos. I thought what if I connect with them in the future? Well, fat chance of that. I am even moving away from the part of the country where most of them probably live. I’m 70 years old. What are the chances I will see these “unknown” folks again? When I am dead and gone, my kids will go through these photos, and have no idea who these people are—why make their clearing of my stuff harder than it should be.

Now comes the real questions. Once all my photos are digitized, what is the purpose of keeping the actual photograph? My children will be able to get on my computer and find all my photos. They will be able to go to the “People” section of the photo program and find the ones they may want to copy for themselves, or they may go to the “Places” section and find photos taken a particular geographic location. The photos I scanned will not be in these “places” folders because they don’t have a location. Only photos I have taken since we have had GPS on our phones, tag the photo with a geographic location. There are times I cannot find a particular photo I am searching, but I remember where I took the photo. For example, my photos taken in London, England. When I go to “Places” in my photo program, a world map pops up and it shows locations of my photos.

What are your thoughts about old photos? What does one do with them? Who will want the actual paper photo? What happens with all our photos when we die?

Here are a few examples of the fun photos I have discovered.

1935 ~Dorothy and Aunt Pauline Tomich - Granite City IL -on Walter's V8- Pals - befo

July 1951

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Appreciating My Classmates

Posted on September 19, 2019 by Andrea 16 comments

Since July, we have lost four (that we know of) high school classmates. My husband told me after our 50^threunion, that by the time we get to our 60^thyear reunion, half of our class will be deceased. That sounded so unreal at the time, but when I hear of four deaths in the last few months, I guess his prediction might be correct.

It makes me sad when I think of those we have lost. I didn’t know them well. In fact, I didn’t know hardly any of my classmates when I was in high school. I knew them as acquaintances. I didn’t hang out with any of them, and I didn’t date in high school. They were kids I said “hello” to in the hallways or at the drama club activities where I was involved. That was the best I knew them.

Move forward to our 40^thclass reunion. It wasn’t a big reunion. We had 426 students in our class. The 40^threunion had an attendance right at 100, and that included spouses and dates, so there might have been maybe 50-60 classmates in attendance. Because it was a small reunion, and because we were now more mature, the planning committee decided to make everyone feel welcome. We actually had a classmate register for the reunion who no one on the committee knew. We looked up his name in the yearbook, and he was not there, so we looked at the roster from graduation, and there he was, a part of our class. We later found out that his family had moved to our school district his senior year, thus missing the senior photo in the yearbook, but graduating with our class.

One of the committee members made a statement that has stuck with me since. He said, “We are not 17 any longer. None of us knew him, but let’s make sure everyone feels welcome.” That was a profound statement. We are no longer 17. We don’t care about cliques or status. If you were in our class, we welcome you.

The class of ’66 at their 40th reunion.

That is exactly how our 40^threunion went. The committee hung out around the room and tried to talk to as many attendees as possible. During the evening we passed the microphone around and everyone from the class shared whatever they wanted about themselves and their lives. We had a lovely time reacquainting, or even getting to know for the first time, folks from our class. When the party was over, one of my classmates came up to me and told me that a group of them were going to a local bar afterwards and invited me to come along. My first thought was that when I was in high school, I was never invited to the parties or the after-parties. Yes, I decided to join them. We sat around for another hour or so (about 30 of us), drinking alcohol or non-alcohol, and visited some more. There was something that night the changed the way this class related to each other.

After that night, the group decided it was really fun to get together, and started a monthly dinner. An email would go out, and we would respond if we were available, and the person would make reservations for whatever number at a local restaurant. We ate dinner together, chit-chatted about whatever was happening in our day, and go home. It was casual events.

Shortly after our 40^threunion, one of the attendees died. We were all taken off guard, because she seemed to be fine at the reunion. After her death, we thought it might be good to have reunions every five years, instead of 10, because as we age, we will lose more classmates.

Those numbers didn’t start rolling in until around our 50^threunion. I was in charge of PR, and I send email after email to classmates. I didn’t sell the reunion as one where we would reminisce about our glory days of high school, because the reality was that high school wasn’t all that great for many of us. I would send emails out about the fact that we were grown up, and the one thing we all had in common was that we shared a space in time together in high school. Had it been a good or a bad experience, we are all grown up now, and we would love to see you again, or even for the first time, and get to know you. We are at the age we are losing friends and family, and what a wonderful time to to rekindle old friendships and make new friendships. I was beginning to get responses to the emails from classmates who were too ill to attend.

I sent emails almost monthly for 18 months prior to the reunion. The last 6 weeks, I sent them almost weekly. I listed on each email who had registered. I knew folks were looking for their old friends. I established a class Facebook page, that is still widely used by classmates. Many who were unable to attend the reunion, happily joined our Facebook group page.

I would throw out questions on this new Facebook page. The first question I threw out was, “If you could change anything about your high school experience, what would that be?” That may not be the exact question, but that was the gist of it. I was surprised to

This was what we called “Senior Hall.” All the seniors’ lockers were located here and that’s where the seniors hung out.

see so many people answer the question. The interesting thing was that most of the people, the jocks, the popular kids, the ones no one knew, pretty much all of them, responded how those years were difficult and that they didn’t feel a part of things. Wow! It was kind of universal. I remember one of the guys said he never asked any girl out because he was afraid of being rejected. I opened the yearbook, looked up his photo, and he was this really cute young fellow. I didn’t know him hardly in high school, but over the years at reunions, I thought he was a really nice person. I thought so many of those girls would have probably gone out with him, or like him, they didn’t see themselves in a good light either.

That’s when I realized that we are not who we were in high school. We have grown up and matured. Interesting fact: many of the popular kids from high school have never shown up for a reunion, while the not so popular kids have. One of my classmates, who became a high school teacher, commented that in her experience teaching that some kids peak in high school—they are the cute ones, the popular ones, and then later in life, they don’t feel that about themselves, and we never see them again. Then there are many of us who didn’t peak until we were adults, and we came back and found we were not so different from anyone else.

Our high school class is very unusual. I have friends and family from the years around my class who say they are done going to reunions. The last one they went to was a disaster, poor planning, unfriendly people, cliques still in place. I wouldn’t have believed that had I not seen that for myself.

My sister is six years older than me. The year of her 50^threunion, her husband passed away, and she was really struggling. I convinced her to come home for her reunion, and I and our other sister would be her dates for the reunion. She wasn’t sure because she said her class was snobbish. She did attend, and we were her dates. She found some of her old friends (acquaintances) and we sat at the dinner together having a nice visit. Then as people were mingling around the room, one of the “popular” girls came up to her and asked her who she was. My sister introduced herself, and this lady replied, “No, I didn’t know you,” and turned on a dime and walked away. You had to lift my jaw off the floor. Really? Fifty years later you still act like a selfish 17 year old? Wow!

So, over the last 13 years since our 40^threunion, our class continues to connect. We seem to have a class who “gets it.” Popular, not popular, scholars, those of us who eaked our way through—all of us connect, we care about each other. We root for each other and get concerned when we hear about a health crisis or a death in their families. We get together whenever we can — the class of ’66 is still about a good party. Dennis and I have entertained them at our home several times, the last time having an Eclipse party the day in 2017 of the total eclipse going directly over our home in Mid-Missouri. A couple months ago, one of our classmates was celebrating her 50^thwedding anniversary, and she invited her classmates to the party. There were three large tables of her classmates that attended. Did we all hang out with her in high school? No, but we began to care deeply about her through our years together.

Those from the class of ’66 attending the Eclipse Party (in their Eclipse Viewing Glasses).

I love that our class cares about each other. We are from different backgrounds. We are different religions, different political parties, different economic statuses, but we all shared a tiny bit of history together walking the same hallways in our youth. Somehow, the class of 1966 from Lindbergh High School in St. Louis, Missouri, got it. I am so blessed to be from this class.

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The Class of ’66 at their 50th Reunion

So, yesterday, when one of our classmates posted that a fellow classmate had passed away, it was overwhelming to see the responses. This particular classmate did not attend any reunions until the 50^th. He was active on Facebook, and many were connected to him that way. Many classmates shared their sorrow of his death. I wonder if he ever realized that we all liked him and cared for him?

I don’t know what kind of high school you attended. I don’t know if you are blessed to have a class like my high school class. I just know that our class has a very strong connection to each other. We love these old human beings we have become. The St. Louis classmates still get together for lunches—yes, we could change to lunch instead of dinner since almost everyone is retired. Classmates living in Florida and the Florida snowbirds get together in the winter for lunches. Since we have gone to Arizona, I have set up lunches there with classmates. There are not a lot from our class there, so we have included a few years around our class also.

What is it about the Lindbergh High School Class of 1966? I don’t know. I just know that God has blessed us with wonderful people who care about each other (and their spouses and significant others). We don’t care about our differences. We care about the person. We want to see them content, and healthy as possible. We grieve with them when they lose their spouse or family member, and we all grieve when we lose them.

I miss those who cannot, for whatever reason, return to St. Louis for our get-togethers. I really miss those who have passed. You all made our experiences in high school and in later years richer. Three cheers for this wonderful class that I have gotten to know over the years.

The photos of the Class of 1966 of Lindbergh High School, St. Louis, MO. This photo hangs in the Alumni Hall with photos of all the graduating classes.

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Dreams Come True–It Can Happen To You

Posted on September 12, 2019 by Andrea 3 comments

The year 2010 was a rough one for me. I was working at a job I loved with a boss I loved, but he was planning on retiring soon, and his replacement was nothing like my current boss. Also, in early spring my dad at age 90 got sick, and my two sisters and I flew to Phoenix, Arizona to spend some time with him, and access his health. While there, my dad had a mini-stroke, and lived only three more weeks after that.

The day I was to fly home, I sat in my dad’s hospital room, knowing it might be the last time I see him alive. I had a 5:00 pm flight out of Phoenix, which would get me home at a decent hour that I could be into work easily the next morning. Arriving to my gate at the airport a couple hours ahead of my flight, I found that people at the gate were grumbling, and something was wrong. The gate agent announce that the plane was ready, but they didn’t have a crew to fly out, and we would have a 4 to 5 hour delay. Many people were distraught, and I was one of them. I couldn’t believe I would be sitting in an airport for the next 4 to 5 hours while my dad is dying in a hospital bed down the road. The gate agent turned to me and asked why I was so distraught. I told her about my dad, and she proceeded to give me two vouchers that paid for a shuttle to take me back to the hospital, and to return to the airport. I arrived to his room. All the local family had already gone home. Dad was in and out of awareness, but I let him know I was there with him. He seemed to acknowledge that, and I just sat with him for those hours. My great boss sent me back to Arizona a couple weeks later. He was British, and stated that when his mother died, he was not able to go across the pond to be with her. He wanted me to see my dad again—he even told me to go and not even count it as vacation time. Just go see my dad. I will be forever grateful to the kind generosity of my boss, Richard Walker.

When my dad passed away, we went to Phoenix for a “local” funeral service, and then he was shipped back to St. Louis for a 2^ndfuneral service and interment with my mom at the National Cemetery at Jefferson Barracks. The day of my dad’s St. Louis funeral was also the same day as my boss, Richard’s, retirement. I ran by the office to wish him well, and then left for my time of funeral and family.

Coming back to a new boss, who I wasn’t especially excited about, and who I knew wasn’t excited about me, was really difficult. My PhD Physicist boss was the type who “knew everything” and Human Resources to him was a fluff job. He even told me that the MBA degree was a nothing degree—and he knew that was my degree. My new tenure under a new boss was a downhill slide from the beginning. Since this is not a story about him and our challenges, I will just leave it there.

Early in that year, a business colleague stopped by my office and told me that her company was sponsoring a speaker named John O’Leary, to speak at the local community college to business people in the area. She asked me to attend, and said that his story was inspirational. I reluctantly agreed. There was probably only about 30 folks in attendance at this meeting. This was early in John’s speaking career, and he now speaks to groups of thousands across the world.

John’s story was inspirational, and he asked us who we would be “Jack” for in our lives. His story has to do with being burned 99% of his body at age 9, and Jack Buck, the Cardinals Baseball Broadcaster came to see him in the hospital, and the small things Jack did for him (small to Jack) were huge things to John that encouraged him to recover and heal.

John’s business was fairly new at the time, and as part of his business, he had a coaching program attached to that. As I was looking at his website a few days later, I saw the information about the coaching. I didn’t know quite what it was, but I was curious. I was now an orphan, and also felt orphaned at work. I was slightly over 60 years old, and I didn’t have a retirement plan, nor did I know what I wanted to do the day after the next. I had no plan. I felt stuck. I was extremely sad, and I didn’t see much of a future. So, I pressed the button that requested more information, and I received a call from some guy named Grant in Toronto, Canada. Grant was the coach that worked for John’s organization, and he explained coaching to me, and what it would cost (choke-choke), and I said okay, let’s do it.

Taking this step shifted everything in my life. I now had a person who I spoke with on the phone in a one on one session looking at what I wanted my life to be. The problem was, I had no idea what I wanted my life to be. I just knew that my days were numbered with my new boss, I was single and lonely, I had no idea how on earth I could retire or if I should even retire in the following years.

I won’t go into all that we did in coaching, but one day on the phone Grant asked me what my dreams were. Dreams? Really? Who dreams at 60 years old? There is nothing left to dream about, and anyway, my dreams didn’t turn out as I expected, so why dream? Grant wasn’t satisfied with that answer, and he kept pushing me toward thinking of things outside the box. I blurted out, “It would be beyond cool if I could meet Marcus Buckingham.” Marcus Buckingham is a business author and the leader of the “Strengths” movement—to put it simply, is that we need to help grow our employees’ strengths rather than focus to fix their weaknesses. Their weaknesses need to be managed, but they will always be their weaknesses. We achieve and excel when we are given the ability to continue to grow and use what we are best at doing. I loved that idea. Buckingham had a lot of data behind his statements to show business growth when that happened, and more satisfied employees.

Back to my dreams . . . Grant told me to come up with crazy things on the top of my head that I think would be really cool. I accepted the assignment, and that evening at home started making a list as I sat in my living room watching TV.

Fast forward to September of 2019. Okay, actually, fast forward to yesterday. I am on my computer looking for something unrelated, and in my files I see a spreadsheet labeled, “It Would Be Beyond Cool If.” There was the spreadsheet I had done in June of 2010. As I looked at those things that I blurted out on the spreadsheet—whatever popped into my head—like personal brainstorming, I was shocked to see what I wrote.

If you want some encouragement in your life. If you think you cannot have dreams. If you think you are too old to do anything more, stop right there. That is what I thought in June of 2010. But, to my surprise was how many of these “crazy” things I mentioned (and I only call them crazy because I thought they were crazy ideas), had actually happened in these last nine years.

This is my top twenty laundry list of “dreams” that I thought was just that, dreams. So, here goes the replies to “It would be beyond cool if”:

I went on a fun cruise and had a good time – I had never been on a cruise, but in January 2015, Dennis and I took a western Caribbean cruise and had a wonderful time.
I had a boyfriend – Ha! I didn’t get a boyfriend, I got a husband! That was unexpected!
I lived in another state – last year Dennis and I started living in Arizona for the winter, and this coming year it will be our permanent home.
I could play the piano – just to let you know, not all dreams come true. I do not have the talent for that, and that will probably never happen!
I had tickets to a Cardinal ball game and could go with a friend – Let’s see, I have been to games with Dennis, and I have been to Cardinals spring training games in Florida with my friend, Kim, and after marrying Dennis, with him and my son and grandson. Done!
I could dance – my two left feet says I still have two left feet—Dennis says we should just dance to the left, but I am not yet comfortable with that.
I have good friends I could go hiking with – Dennis and I have hiked in Florida, Missouri, and extensively in Arizona.
I wrote a best-selling book – if I knew what I could write about, maybe that could happen, but I love writing this blog, which is something my coach suggested back then, and I laughed him off. Who knew?
I am a motivational speaker – yeah, that hasn’t happened either.
I bake all I want, eat it, and not gain a pound – that most definitely is dreaming—not happening!
I have an inground swimming pool – I acquired one when I married Dennis.
I had friends to party with at a lake – Our Missouri home is on a small lake and we have entertained hundreds of family and friends.
I could buy all new furniture – where this came from I don’t know, but our home in Arizona is furnished with all brand new furniture.
I could buy my dream house – we selected a home in Arizona to be built, and selected all the furnishings to become my dream home.
I could do whatever I wanted – Being retired, that is pretty much my life!
I was in a sitcom – this one makes me laugh. My life with Dennis is like a sitcom. We are goofy as can be and we laugh a lot, and I am sure people who know us think we are part of a sitcom!
I would get a flower delivery – no problem anymore. My husband is good at that.
I won an unlimited shopping spree to Crate and Barrel – this one really struck me as funny. I loved that store back then, and had a few things from there. Our home is Arizona is almost completely furnished with their furniture and also the majority of my kitchen (dishes, flatware, etc.)
I dated a guy who would cook for me – Hahaha! If I want to die, I can let Dennis cook for me. He is a terrible cook, but everything else about him makes it okay that he doesn’t cook!
I could run a marathon – I never did a marathon but in 2011, I was looking for a 5k to run, but instead, flew to Arizona, where I ran with my cousin in the Pat Tillman Run which is actually 4.2 miles long—a bit longer than a 5k. With my new artificial hip, I don’t think I want to test that out.

I had not looked at these since they were written in 2010. What a surprise to see what I thought were crazy impossible things, happened to me, and for me! Why did I doubt that good things could continue to happen? Have you ever written down your crazy dreams? You might just want to do that—tuck it away somewhere, and years later, take a look. I do have to say that none of this happens magically, but my attitude toward life changed, and moving forward actually fulfilled my dreams.

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Robotic Surgery

Posted on September 6, 2019 by Andrea 6 comments

Two days ago I had surgery. It was planned. Everyone asks me what kind of surgery I was having, and if I told them, they didn’t know what to say. Let’s just say that I had surgery on the very end of my digestive system. Our digestives system, I have learned over the years, is a very unique structure that starts at your mouth when you eat, and ends down at your bottom when you remove waste, which is a requirement for all of us. But when things get slightly out of place, there can be problems that are uncomfortable. My primary care doctor referred me to an gastroenterologist, who referred me to a surgeon. I would think that if one were repairing the final end of the digestive system, one would make the surgical incisions there. Not true. Thus, sitting is not a problem at all.

My surgery was done by a robot, and it was done abdominally. Yeah, pretty crazy, huh? I have decided that these surgeons were hooked to their video games as a kid, playing Pacman, Frogger, and Pong. They got more and more sophisticated, and finally decided to invent a robot to do surgery so they could still be at their game console.

Let me describe this robot to you. It is called the Da Vinci Robot. It is not like a transformer—but just think what that would look like! A car would drive into the operating room, and then magically turn into a giant human shaped robot that would perform surgery. Well, that’s not what this is like.

The Da Vinci system is made of up three components. First there is the “Surgeon Console” which is the doctor’s Atari, Xbox, or Gameboy for grown up doctors. The doctor actually sits as this console, has a 3D image, and does his magic from there. The “Surgeon Console” is where the surgeon sits during the procedure, has a close-up 3D view of the anatomy, and controls the instruments. The instruments are “wristed” and move like a human hand, but with a far greater range of motion.

The “Vision Cart” makes communication between the components of the system possible and supports the latest 3D high-definition vision system. It’s like a big, giant computer processor for video.

The doctor’s assistant, usually his well-trained nurse, is doing whatever they do (I realized I don’t know what they really do) at the patient’s side with the next piece of equipment called the “Patient Cart.” The patient-side cart is positioned near the patient who is on the operating table. These are the surgical instruments, and the instruments on this “Patient Cart” move during the operation in real time in response to the surgeon’s hand movements at the “Surgeon Console.”

This patient-side cart is the part of the robot that is in the body. I have five small incisions in my torso. These robotic arms go into these small incisions, similar to laparoscopic surgery. One of the arms has the high definition 3D camera, the other arms move body parts out of the way and also perform the procedure, such as cutting or suturing. It can handle the smallest of surgical procedures. There is a Youtube video that show it cutting off the skin of a grape and resuturing it back on.

In my case, I have a few scars on my torso. The first one is my appendectomy scar from when I was 6 years old. I don’t think laparoscopic surgery was not even a dream back in 1954. I remember being told I had a six (6) inch incision. That is a long incision for a little girl, but I had an appendix about to burst that was pretty much wrapped around me. The other large scar I have is from my ectopic (tubal) pregnancy in 1979. Not knowing what could be my problem, but knowing I was hemorrhaging, my doctor did an exploratory surgery where he cut me from the breast bone to the pubic bone, to go in and look at everything internally to determine what was wrong.

As Wikipedia states, “By providing the surgeon with superior visualization, enhanced dexterity, greater precision and ergonomic comfort, the Da Vinci Robot makes it possible for surgeons to perform minimally invasive procedures involving complex dissection or reconstruction. For the patient, the Da Vinci procedure offers all the potential benefits of a minimally invasive procedure, including less pain, less blood loss and less need for blood transfusions.”The Da Vinci Robot enables a shorter hospital stay, a quicker recovery and faster return to normal daily activities. In my case, I was home about 30 hours from the time my surgery was completed. Yes, I do have some pain. I mean there are 5 keyhole incisions in my abdomen. Things have been moved around internally, and I am sure that also is what is hurting. I will be on pain pills for a few days. My son and daughter-in-law are coming in town today, and they wanted us to go to dinner with them. I told them I wasn’t sure I would be up for that. I mentioned it to my doctor, and his reply was if I feel up to it, go have dinner. Wow! I’m taking it easy today so I can join them for dinner out.

I do have restrictions such as lifting and driving. My sweet husband helps me get dressed because right now bending painful. I figure in a week or two I will be back pretty much to normal. It is amazing what medical technology has done to make our lives just a bit more easier when having surgery.

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