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Yes, it seems to have been a success. I sat in the waiting room for two hours (polishing up Bury the Dead and Welcome the Stranger a bit and spitting out wild, disjointed thoughts in response to [livejournal.com profile] velourmane's emails. The surgeon came out shortly after my laptop battery died, to tell me that it was, indeed, a nasty, inflamed gallbladder he'd taken out, and they were going to keep Mr. Cameron until tomorrow (that's today) but if he was doing okay he could come home this afternoon or evening. He himself said he actually felt better, despite the having been cut up and stuff. I got the kids from Grandma's, brought them down to see him, and then (it was late and they were tired) took them home and put them to bed. When we left he was fretting at the nurse about only getting clear liquids and could he please have food.

We've been to swimming lessons, are all dried off and dressed, and we're going for another visit, and hopefully to find out what time Mr. Cameron is getting out. The next phase is easy--propping him up on the couch and fetching things for him. No sweat!

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