Kryptonite

By no stretch of the imagination do I think I'm Superman, but I clearly understand what it means to encounter kryptonite. I've been very fortunate that the only side effect I've endured post surgery is nausea/fatigue. Each evening the nausea hits me like a ton of bricks and I'm rendered useless until the bout is over. Fingers crossed this runs its course in the next week. So kryptonite is to Superman as food is to Scott. I truly can't wait until I can eat Fox's pizza or a kick ass steak. :)

In terms of unsung heros one person comes to mind - my wife. She equally embarked down this rabbit hole of unknown. She unselfishly took the plunge with me knowing that she would need to take on the role of a single parent post surgery (re: caring for our two young kids) and taking care of a 3rd child (i.e. me).

I wish I had a picture that illustrates this - when we landed in Boston the wheel chair guy was waiting for me. Chris strapped Rylan to her front in a carrier, pushed a Snap-n-Go, carried multiple bags and pulled Acadia in her car seat that we attached a roller board to. Right behind was her hubs in a wheel chair with everyone in the terminal staring at us. Thankfully our good friend/neighbor Jay was waiting in baggage claim to get us home.

Thank you sweetie for being my hero and just think we're nearly at the halfway point - in three more weeks I can lift things greater than a gallon of milk.