My brother called this morning to tell me that my Dad’s surgery went good – uh – WTH? I didn’t even know he was having surgery. :: blank stare ::
He’s had this thing in his hands. Apparently it’s like an extra tendon that grows a little like ivy does. It starts to attach itself to the existing tendons and then brings everything in nice and tight. For years we’ve given Dad shit because when he closed his hands, his middle finger still stood at attention – essentially flipping the bird to all in his view.
So now that the tendon with it’s own mind is moving to his thumb, the doctors have told him that if he doesn’t do something about it soon, his hands will both be balled up into fists. Nice!
He had the surgery done yesterday and this morning he was back at work. You see, my family doesn’t relax or rest very well. It’s just not in our genes apparently. The doctor called him at home to check on him and my step mom said he was in bed (lie lie lie). They said, well we just wanted to remind him that he shouldn’t be driving and he should have that arm elevated for the next 48 hours. Nice … he’s out driving around to job sites – haha. He said he can’t just sit there and do nothing. Which is true … he can’t. He’s never been able to. He told me, “I’m just driving around town, I’m wearing a seat belt and I’ve got an airbag.” :: rolling eyes :: … it’ll never be any different … that’s who he is.
When I mentioned before that I had a hard time just “being”… well … I guess there is no doubt where I get it from. Nobody in my family can just “be”.
If I ran the zoo, I’d take away his keys.