Well, the final wad o' packing came out of my husband's leg last night. While I was happy for him, I couldn't help but be a little nervous, as neither of us has seen this sort of thing before and I didn't know what to expect.

Okay, I did know what to expect but I was freaked out that something strange and terrible would happen. Like, removing the packing would release some inner torrent of pus and we wouldn't be able to hold it back and it would be like a tsunami in our bathroom.

Needless to say, that did not happen.

It actually (apparently) looks great this morning. Now, I only know that secondhand, from him, but I'm pretty sure it's true because I can usually tell when he's lying about stuff. Also, he is aware that I will smack the crap out of him if he fibs about this.

I can tell I've been too worried for too long because, apparently, I was sleepwalking and talking last night, and that's always what I do when I'm trying to work stuff out in my head. I did not, however, move anything around or do anything ridiculous. I guess I just stood up and stared at the wall and told my husband I was looking for bandages.

So, yeah, pretty clear what that one's about.

At any rate, I'm feeling much happier and less worried now that the wound appears to be closing, and that is something to celebrate. 

Anyway, as it's quickly approaching, happy Fourth of July! I hope everybody out there gets the day off and gets to spend it in whatever way he or she desires. I will be spending it doing what I love best: Dusting and laundry.

I am so much cooler than I ever thought I'd be. Childhood me must be out there somewhere just jumping for joy at that last sentence.