and he didn't even cry

Kolton was a big, brave boy yesterday.

He got surgery.

On his arm.

About a year ago (November 2009) right before he took me out for the first time he went on a blind date  fourwheeling. As he was cruising up a hill he hit a gully or something (this is me retelling the story from his words, it gets a little technical so I have to edit) and basically it jarred him and hurt his elbow. He didn't really notice that it hurt at all until the next morning when he couldn't bend his elbow more than 90 degrees.

But did he go to the doctor?

Of course not.

Long story short-after about a year of me nagging him about his grind-y elbow that he could finally bend but it sounded like there was a bunch of sand in there, he went to the doctor.

This incident is proof to me that miracles do happen.

Turns out, he broke his radial head.

Let me repeat that-

He broke his radial head a year ago-

and did not go to the doctor.

Yes-he's crazy. (and tough and rugged I must also add)

So they set the date and yesterday he got surgery on his arm.

I sat in the waiting room while he was getting ready, but they brought me in while they gave him an IV and stuff.

Just so you know, I hate blood.

and hospitals.

and doctors.

and needles

And the medical-hates list goes on and on (to expound on this is a story for another day)

But I tried to be brave for him, I really did.

However, when they gave him the IV I had to duck my head and look away for fear that I may pass out right on the spot. (How embarrassing would that have been?) But seriously, my throat was all constricted and nervous and my head felt funny.

Yes. I am weak sauce.

I fear for my future children. Doctors visits with their mother are sure to be a ball.

Kolton, on the other hand, was just fine.

anyway...

They gave him some stuff in his IV to relax him and we talked for a bit longer before they rolled him outta there.

We said our goodbyes and then I went back to the waiting room to catch up on my celebrity gossip. (I love reading tabloids in doctor's offices. and dentist's offices, and in the grocery store line, and my hairdresser's, and basically anywhere)

About an hour later they called me in to see my invalid husband.

He was chowing down on some chocolate pudding.

Sadly, the anesthesia didn't affect him too much (i.e. he didn't say anything funny or crazy-which I was a little bummed about)

However, the man behind the curtain provided enough entertainment for the both of us. and the nurses in the room to whom his questions were directed.

 "Was it ugly?" ("I don't know, I wasn't in there with you...")

"Did they take pictures" ("No")

"Dang, I wanted to see what it looked like."

"So....was it ugly"

"Did they take pictures?" (these questions were repeated at least five times, always with the same answer)

Finally the nurse told him that the doctor was talking to his wife and telling her all about the surgery

"Oh great. now I'm gonna have to hear it from her."

Oh my...we were dyin. He just had the croakiest voice and was hilarious.

Finally they decided that Kolton was good to go so we jetted outta there. We picked up a movie and spent the rest of the evening being lazy.

In conclusion:
I think he'll survive.

 And plus, he had a really good excuse for not taking his chemistry test this weekend. So we're pretty happy.