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Pete had his follow-up check on Tuesday and the first clue that something wasn't quite right was the look on the PA's face when she removed the dressing. Pete's leg was every shade of black and blue and swollen and tender, probably more than it should have been after a week. She suggested that this could be a problem.

His oncologist seconded the motion and ordered him to the hospital for a second surgery to clean out the wound to remove a hematoma, which obviously made Pete very sad, having just spent his first day in a week feeling, well...he was almost afraid to admit it...somewhat good. His surgery was yesterday afternoon, and we brought him home this morning. I stayed with him last night, trying unsuccesfully to sleep in the recliner in his room, which I would liken to an instrument of torture. One plus was the ability to watch two quarter final matches at the US Open aired on cable in "primetime". Who knew that "primetime" means starting a tennis match in the late evening, finishing before midnight and then turning around and starting another? We watch Serena barely beat Venus and then Rafa Nadal take down Mardy Fish, a player with lots of game who is a little short on mental toughness. So the night was not a total loss.

Heather is here this afternoon, working from a much more comfortable recliner. Pete is sleeping, and I'm afraid to sleep any more (I got in a couple of hours) for fear I won't sleep tonight.

It seems that the hematoma was a bit bigger than first expected. When Dr. H. held out his hands (as in the commercial "you're in good hands with Allstate") he was holding the imaginary blob. His PA said, "Well you should be having some extra pain tonight. I had my hand inside your leg." Ouch. Dr. H. took a picture of the monster laying on the table next to a ruler and it was 5" long and 3" high.

I think it's safe to say Pete should begin to feel better now, providing he doesn't have any more hematoma issues. Dr. H. said this morning that it looked like a huge pile of grape jelly. I'll never eat another PBJ, and thanks to me, you may not either. There is a bigger drain tube in his leg, and we got some new instructions on how to "strip" it (move the blood along to the receptacle to avoid clots forming and blocking the way).

I just have to say that my new boss (and the HR head) has been terrific in this difficult time, giving me time off at the beginning of the school year to be at Pete's side. This week, half the middle school is at a nearby camp having an "outdoor education" experience, so that helps things be a little less crazy at school.

Needless to say, "there's no place like home", and we're certainly happy to be here.