Today was spent busily waiting, first for an ultrasound (part of the aforementioned physical exam of last Monday) and then surgery on that busted leg. The Bone Doc had alluded to not only putting a plate on the bone but any number of pins and screws to hold the rest of the ankle together but Southern Man put in a mild protest and asked that the ankle be left to heal on its own and then through the magic of modern anesthesia it was three hours later and he was in the recovery room getting dressed (yes, his memory kicks in as he is struggling to pull his pants on). There was no cast, just a splint and lots of wraps. After a quick trip to the pharmacy for wonderful pain-killing medications Southern Father drove The Titan to the Ancestral Manor where Southern Man put his foot up and just relaxed for a while before heading home to sleep in his own bed. And also to mix another pitcher of margaritas with which to wash those painkillers down. It hurts - oh dear Lord does it hurt - but tomorrow is Christmas Eve!