Scarred, Shmarred

Just in case you're wondering how our boy is recovering from his procedure yesterday...

Nathan was instructed to take it easy for the next couple of days and let his body regroup.  This is VERY difficult for him, as he and Clare spend the weekends pummeling each other in a mostly friendly way (think lion cubs).   So when Matt and Clare started tearing through the house this afternoon, Nathan began referring to himself as "Old Mr Jenkins" - whenever they got too close, he yelled, "GET OFF MY LAWN!" and shuffled after them, shaking his fist and muttering darkly.

When asked if he is behind the mysterious goings-on at the amusement park, Nathan had no comment.

Port in a Storm

Just received word from Dan that Nathan's port is installed, and everything went as planned.  Nathan is an old pro with sedation and anesthesia, having had MRIs since he was a very wiggly 8 year-old, and he is a very happy little drunk when he comes out of it.  According to Dan, Nathan was steady enough to walk out of the building - and then he looked at Dan, smirked, said, "It's not every day you get to ride in a wheelchair!" and made Dan push him up umpteen ramps to get to the car.  That's my boy!  Why walk when you can ride?  They are on their way home, where Nathan plans to spend the afternoon asking for more ginger ale and tomato soup while using his xBox 360 to protect the Pentagon from Nazi zombies (you're welcome, Mr President).

Dan and I are just overwhelmed with the deluge of support you have shown us.  Reading all of your comments felt like walking in from a hellish blizzard to God's ski resort and being offered hot baths, fuzzy slippers, Irish coffee, and brownies.  While we normally don't like being in debt, we sincerely hope that we never, ever have a chance to repay all of you for your kindness. Thanks, and thanks, and ever thanks.

Love you all,
MA