Quitting Time

I had planned my last day and was working toward it. Then...wait for it...more problems and another SURGERY. Three inside five months. I can now tell the anesthetists how to put me under and how to medicate me. And what anti-nausea drugs I need. And what pain meds work best for me. Fortunately, it was an easy one, the biopsy was fine and the recovery was nearly non-existent. Same surgeon. I think maybe she is just really good. Anyway, it turned out that I had to get this surgery in before my last day or it wouldn't be covered once I switched to Jon's plan. My doctor appointment was on Tuesday. My last day was Wednesday. Suddenly, surgery was on Wednesday and my last "work day" became Tuesday. Talk about a rush. Jon was out of town and couldn't make it back. He felt bad, like he should be here, but honestly, it was quick and easy and there was nothing he needed to do so there was no need to feel guilty. The phone call was interesting though. "Hey Jon, guess what? I'm having surgery again tomorrow. Where are you?" But all was well, my boys got me where I needed to be. Shoot, the next day, on my first official unemployed day, I ran multiple errands and finished painting the basement room. And then because I was worried that I might have overdone it, I took Percocet.