A quick rundown of last week:
Monday: first baseball practice. Total and utter chaos. Jacob loved every second of it.

Tuesday: Went to the dentist, who found a cavity underneath an old filling. Root canal may be required, followed by a cap or crown or hat or something. She also submitted my claim to get a dental implant to the insurance company. We expect them to deny it out of hand.

Wednesday: Shlepped downtown and got my band filled back up again by the dashing Dr. H., king of bariatric surgery. Went home and saw food everywhere I looked. Sipped water and teeny amounts of milk.

Thursday: Advised by boss that we're back on mandatory overtime. Attempted to keep sipping beverages but felt tighter and tighter. Took a test sip of chicken broth at lunchtime and bolted for the ladies' room, where I dry heaved for 15 minutes. Staggered back to the hallway where I'm working and attempted to feel human. Called the surgeon's office and asked that they unfill me a bit. They scheduled me for Friday. Went back to my hallway desk and felt myself getting increasingly short of breath. Called back and was told a bit later to come downtown immediately. By the time the surgical fellow arrived on site from over at the hospital, I was in the bathroom, dry heaving again, while the surgical center EMT stood outside the door. They unfilled me all the way once I could stand up again; a huge air pocket had developed below the band and pushed it up into my diaphragm.

Friday: Went to the doc and had my thyroid checked. Went back to work until 3:30, and raced back downtown for the third day in a row to have my band filled yet again.