We are, however, set up for him to have the surgery next Monday afternoon. Sooner good.
Trying hard not to dwell too much on the fact that they lost us this morning at the doctor's office. The receptionist put us in a room so Matthew could recline, and then the doctor and nurse couldn't find us and only located us 'cause I heard them saying "Matthew Foster? Is he here? He is? Where is he?" and poked my head out of the door. And that the last time we were there, they almost mixed up Matthew's MRI and X-ray films with someone else's. Twice. Even though the name on the other films was "James Foster" and not "Matthew Foster" and James' case was a neck problem, not a back. Gleep.