semperfiona: (meteors)
It's been a hectic few weeks here in the Rivendell household.

Chris had been having a pain in his right side for apparently years now, but nothing was diagnosed. Three-four weeks ago, it got suddenly much worse, and he went to urgent care, where they did an ultrasound and told him it's probably his gallbladder and he should see a gastroenterologist. The first one he could find who could see him was the surgeon who did Tammie's recent colonoscopy, in Ste Genevieve. He went to see the surgeon, who had another ultrasound done because the first one was "not good quality", and told him he had gallstones and should make an appointment to have the gall bladder removed. But that their hospital didn't have equipment capable of handling a person of his size (he has been calling himself a frost giant lately), so gave him a referral to a surgeon at Missouri Baptist.

It took a few days of calling but he finally got in touch with the MoBap surgeon, who *also* told him their equipment wasn't big enough, and he should go to the ER at BarnesJewish. Thursday last, we did that. Spent all of Thursday night in the ER--where they did yet another ultrasound--finally admitted to the hospital Friday morning early. They still weren't sure they were actually going to remove his gallbladder; apparently he was borderline on the criteria they use to decide whether it's an emergency or should be done as scheduled semi-elective surgery. He kept insisting that he couldn't live with the pain for another six weeks--which seemed likely to be the timeframe for the elective surgery--and eventually they set him up for surgery Saturday morning.

Surgery was successful, I have seen a picture of what he's calling GallStoneHenge (six large and a heap of small gallstones), and he was released Sunday afternoon. Recovery is going well, he felt better the day after surgery than the day before, and keeps improving. Yay!

Meanwhile, Tammie is traveling for work. This is the third week in a row that she's been gone. She's home on the weekend, but of course we have to spend most of it getting her stuff ready to leave again (All The Laundry). So I was the one who spent Thursday and Friday at the hospital with Chris until she got home Friday evening and was able to join us.

Meanwhile meanwhile, Rosa was attending a convention that same weekend, and had a costume not-quite-finished that she wanted to wear. So I got to work on sewing the costume while sitting in a hospital visitors chair. But it got done!

In among all that, I finished my owl post gifts. Woohoo!
semperfiona: (castle)
[livejournal.com profile] bbwoof asked Tammie and me a question Sunday night, "How do you guys get so many of these wonderful impromptu gatherings to happen?"

We said something about three people who have cellphones and aren't afraid to use them, but I think there's more to it. I'm not sure we ever sat down and determined to do so, but from the very beginning we made hospitality one of our family's primary values. There were the weekend-long poly parties at the Washington House and monthly game nights at the Lake House. Even so, Rivendell House has been even more of a center for gatherings.

I think it's because of the name of the house. Years ago, when Ray and I were living in England, I was taken with the (disappearing) English habit of naming houses in lieu of numbering them. We had no house of our own, but we planned that on our return we would soon buy one. I ordered a house-name plaque on spec, and chose the name Rivendell in honor of my beloved Tolkien books.

Frodo was now safe in the Last Homely House east of the Sea. That house was, as Bilbo had long ago reported, "a perfect house, whether you like food or sleep, or story-telling or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all." Merely to be there was a cure for weariness, fear and sadness.
--The Fellowship of the Ring, Book II, Chapter I "Many Meetings"


Before we bought the house, Ray and I used to talk about the "South City Palace" (SCP) we would someday own. And we did, and the nameplaque was duly installed. But he and I never called the house by name; we always called it the SCP: an exclusionary monicker, I think now.

For years, both while we lived there together and, after the divorce, when Rosa and I lived there alone, delivery people would knock on the door and ask quizzically, "Is this the $NAME residence?" When I answered in the affirmative, they always asked me why I left the previous owners' name on the wall. "It's the house's name," I'd say, and they'd look at me even funnier. Until the movies came out, and suddenly I no longer get questions.

In the two years since Chris, Tammie and I moved (back) to the city we have started calling the house by name, our friends call us and the house Rivendell more or less interchangeably, and spontaneous gatherings have been more and more commonplace.

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