For all who've gone a ponderin' my online reticence since I met-cute with the sweet yonder-years of decade number three, being those few I haven't conversed with very directly or at all, well, this'll cease that particular ponder:
Mom got Granny into the hospital two weeks ago, and on Tuesday she was transferred to UT Medical Center to receive the services of a doctor who could perform a stint on an artery leading to her stomach.
The second procedure (after a failed Wednesday attempt) was performed just five and half hours ago, and was a decided success. We're in a good place now. She'll be monitored as she digests food(without pain) and gets her circulation in check, and for now it seems the hard part's over. Thanks to this, she's avoided bypass surgery, or at least made the possibility of going through that less frightening. She'll be home soon.
There's just too much lightning and nicotine, compounded with the kinetic energy of a Mynatt/Francis firing through that woman, for her to be kept down. We saw her in the ICU and she was just beaming. Wanted to dance a tarantella and cook a pot roast, concurrently or consecutively (some of this is her words).
We're all heaving relief sighs and thanking our luck (like this is new) we've got that very same DNA.
And it's summer time in the Shire. Far as I'm concerned.