Early Sunday morning the doctors ( I can't say enough about their skills and their compassion) decided that his gall bladder was coming out - but not until Monday. I was pretty useless sitting around the hospital while he slept and the wonderful nurses kept tabs. That's when I decided to head out west myself after all. No Zip Car - I won't drive in Chicago - but my CTA Blue Line got me to Oak Park Avenue in record time.
Monday morning I cancelled our flight for Wednesday and, as agreed, we re-booked for the following Tuesday. After donating the Monday night opera tickets back to the Lyric I headed out for the hospital. By six o'clock in the evening, Joe was minus a gall bladder and I had spent many fearful hours reading a book and a half.