....he who is confused by good news needs swift quick up the bum!
Okay, Confucius didn't really say that but he darn well SHOULD have!
I spent the whole of yesterday with my cellphone almost literally attached to me, waiting anxiously for Doc S to phone in the blood tests which, after a few difficult days with Sam and a couple of funky urine analysis' on Sunday, we were almost certain would confirm that Sam has Hepatitis A. Although I couldn't for the life of me imagine how Sam might actually have caught Hepatitis as we don't generally serve poo sandwiches at Cafe de Beer and having to postpone Friday's surgery would have been nothing short of devastating, it was also a sort of relief knowing what has been causing Sam's generally being "unwell' lately - it's now been five days since he ate properly and almost just as many nights without proper sleep. So when Doc S did phone this morning (after apparently having already sent me an sms yesterday - which sms was more than likely deleted by a certain finger happy smurf while watching video's on my phone) and said that Sam in fact does NOT have Hepatitis, I had a rather lengthy ''Huh?" moment which must have left him wondering what the heck kind of mother am I that sounds more disappointed than relieved that her child is not sick. I had just really expected the tests to come back pointing to Hepatitis so it took a moment for the news to sink in.
So, of course, it means we are all good to go for Friday's surgery. Sam will still see Doc S for his usual pre-op examination on Thursday, especially as Doc S thinks the funky-urine-analysis gremlin might be because of a viral infection but if all goes well, God willing, Sam will be minus one seriously disruptive little testicle by this time on Friday.
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