The good news is my other half's surgery could not have gone better; she's doing well, she experienced very little swelling, even less pain, and aside from a semi-volatile reaction from Vicodin, she's improving steadily. She'll wind up back in her own apartment later tonight, and work from home tomorrow. By Tuesday she'll be back among the world of California drivers; all in all, not a bad experience at all.
I spoke to her briefly Friday night; I was waiting by the phone and the computer before going out, awaiting for word from either her or one or both of her parents; around 10 I got an e-mail from her dad which let me know she was doing fine and that all of the Yankee goodies, some of which I picked out and/or had gotten for him before she arrived or while she was here, were great. In fact, while he was -- of course -- relieved she was doing well, he was really jazzed over two of the Yankee things we'd picked up for him. Less than 20 minutes after receiving that e-mail, a friend of mine and I were on the phone, planning on heading out to a local bar, when I got a call from my other half herself. She essentially confirmed the details of her father's e-mail and let me know she was out of it but otherwise feeling okay. She started to fade so we said good night and I headed out to meet my friend.
The next morning I woke semi-earlyish with her on my mind; I got some things done quickly then went back to bed for a little while. Knowing I couldn't (and shouldn't) call her, I made plans with another friend to hit a pair of street fairs happening nearby. The first street fair was more of a one-block fair which was happening between First and York Avenues on 87th Street. I arranged with my friend to meet me at First and 87th but by the time I'd walked the entire block to First, it was clear the block fair was a tremendous waste of time. So we opted to meet at 79th and First, which was the beginning of the big fair, the "First Avenue Fair."
We walked the fair and fought the heat, and I bought a few semi-disposable items and a pair of Japanese sushi plates to match one I already had. My cell-phone, which I had tried keeping handy expecting a call from my other half, was experiencing a dying battery so when the call came through, I didn't hear it, and we wound up playing phone-tag for a bit before I finally got her on the phone. She got the bouquet of flowers, the get well balloons and the teddy bear I had delivered and was very happy; on top of that, she was feeling decently, thanks to the vicodin and a lot of sleep, and was comfortable. We talked briefly before she went back to bed to continue resting.
So my friend and I continued on through the fair; she wound up buying a dresser from a well-known furniture store that had recently lost its lease and was in the process of relocating, so she got a very nice, shaker-style dresser for a lot less money than it would normally have cost. They arranged for delivery an hour later, so we wound down at the fiar and headed over to her place and waited for the delivery guys to arrive. Once we had cooled down and were relaxed, they showed up on cue, and then we took her pooch for a quick walk before I split to avoid the rain. It turned out my sister was in the vicinity, also at the Fair, so I met her and a couple of her friends and we grabbed some mexican food right on First Avenue. We sat outside for a little while before the lightning and thunder started, and within 20 minutes, it began pouring. So we made a run for York Avenue, piled into a cab, and we went our separate ways. I came home, chilled out some more, relaxed and watched a movie -- Collateral -- and spoke to my other half via Instant Messenger. Normally the IM thing isn't exactly newsworthy; this time, however, was a bit different because her parents didn't understand the concept of IM'ing, so they watched a bit as we typed back and forth. Luckily she told me they were semi-present so I didn't type anything inappropriate, like "hey, you should wear the black dominatrix outfit with the pink riding crop for the first night you're back in NYC." I doubt her parents would have been receptive to any apology I would offer after something like that, so I'm glad nothing of that ilk came about.
Other than that, I spent a good part of today working; I have a Wed. deadline looming and a variety of ancillary stuff to handle this week, and knowing she'll be here in just a couple weeks (and staying for a couple weeks) already has me thinking long-term, both as far as schedule and she and I. I'm not sure if we'll be making much in the way of plans for heading out of town, but we both would like to head down to Maryland to visit friends, both hers and mine, and we could always head to New Hope, PA, to walk around for the day. But largely speaking, I'm just focusing on her getting better, feeling good and not being in pain.
Last night, a little while before she wound up getting back to bed and going to sleep, we were IM'ing while I watched part of the third Harry Potter movie on HBO, and she wound up having a pretty bad reaction to the vicodin. Since she hadn't been eating much, the vicodin obviously upset her stomach and she wound up nauseous. Luckily it passed, as did the pain from the surgery, so that -- hopefully -- will be the last vicodin she takes. And long after the surgery has faded into the past, along with her discomfort therefrom, hopefully her memories therefrom will be confined to the flowers, the balloons, the teddy bear and our talks between her naps. I still feel badly I wasn't there with her, but she knows I was there for her, and while I might have been 3,000 miles away, I was -- at least in spirit -- right there with her the whole time.