No worse for the wear

Surgery's over. I'm still alive, thanks to the ministrations of Dr. Smith, master of orthopedic surgery.

I'll be sore tomorrow, for certain, and Carrem will drive us home, come hell, highwater or the 80% chance of snow. Thank god for comfy car seats, percocet, and a vicodin or three. Unfortuately, she won't let me take my meds the way god intended, with three fingers of single malt...

--Chuck