My grandfather had surgery yesterday to remove a cancerous tumor from his nose. Now, considering the things my grandfather has been through in his life (starting with WWII when he got tb and was told he would never make it out of Italy) a little nose cancer is nothing to worry about. I mean really, call me when you have something serious. Like colon cancer. Again.
Anyway, my mom emailed me this morning to tell me that all had gone well and mentioned that my aunt had taken pictures. And then she emailed me the pictures. And then I opened the pictures, expecting a nice shot of Papa in the hospital lobby with some stitches and maybe some flowers and wearing one of those ugly cowboy shirts he likes. Nope. Wrong. These were pictures taken during the surgery. I mean way during the surgery. As in, I have now seen parts of my Papa that there is no reason whatsoever for anyone to see. When I complained to my mom that she ought to warn people before sending pictures like that she said "Well, I told you that my sister took the pictures. What else did you expect from her?" Which is really a very good point.
At least the surgical drape was a little more attractive than then cowboy shirts.