Milady is doing fine after surgery. I spent the day at her side, pestering the heck out of her. The surgeon came in for evening rounds and watching the two of them interact is interesting.
He knocked on the door and came in while she was in the restroom. "Where'd she go?"
Me: "In the bathroom."
Him: Knocking on the door. "Are you all right?"
Her: "Yeah, I'm okay. When am I getting out of here?" She came out of the bathroom, pushing her IV pole.
Him: "Oh, a couple of days. Sunday maybe. We'll see."
Her: "You reckon you can give an order for a hep-lock? I'm getting tired of pushing this pole around. I'm drinking fine and this fluid has me going every ten minutes."
Him: "Yeah, I can do that. Just stay in the room. I don't want you wandering around." With that, he left. He was in the room just long enough to piss her off.
Milady is not one to suffer fools gladly. She puts up with her surgeon because she trusts him, which is more than I can say for her trust of the nursing staff at the hospital. She was muttering earlier about their ability to start an IV, which I understand is something that any neophyte nurse should be able to do. Evidently a rookie blew a vein in her left wrist and she is upset about that. Starting IV's is a part of nursing that she takes very seriously, and her exerience at this hospital isn't good in that regard.
Bottom line is, she's fine. Hopefully she'll be home by the end of the weekend.