Thursday, May 28, 2009

Larger pictures of Dad's stuff*

Earlier this week, I alluded to something I was really worried about. It wasn't my info to give, but my Dad has now shared it on his site, so I figure it's fair game.

My Dad's doctor found a small tumor that he had to have surgery for in Ukraine on my birthday. So, it was like "Happy Birthday, your Dad might die." I mean, for normal people a tumor is a big deal. For people who have already lost someone they loved more than chocolate and Wal-Mart and McDonald's and Tim Horton's all rolled into one? The word "tumor" sends a terror through you that is completely disproportionate. I spent the night before the surgery on edge and didn't' sleep much. Then Dad called the next day to say it was all fine. It was a pretty good birthday present.

That morning, I emailed The Guy to tell him the good news. This was his reply.

You were very worried.

And then I scrolled down to read...

About your dad's junk.

Just kidding. Good to hear!

Just one more reason why I love him.

*The title refers to the first time this month I blogged about my Dad's family jewels. I'm going to have to get new material.


  1. The first time that I got my bandages changed there were 8 nurses there to "help". After that, just the nurse whose job it was to change the bandage. I guess they were disapointed. I get no respect.

  2. I'm so glad to hear that the surgery went well. I freaking hate tumours.

    And, because I can be annoying, I think you meant "alluded". I'm a jerk.


Crap monkies say "what?"