The Appendix: A 4th of July Metaphor

This last weekend, my dear sister Debbie came up for the patriotic festivities. We had plans to watch our latest fascination, The Way We Live Now, an extraordinarily captivating BBC movie based on the novel by Anthony Trollope (thanks, Renee!!). We had three more episodes to watch. On Friday night after W was asleep, we settled in to watch the next episode. Within just a few minutes, Debbie was crying and writhing in pain--not from the dramatic story, I'm afraid. Long story short, we were up all night in the ER waiting for her to get into surgery for an appendectomy.

For those who are unfamiliar with appendicitis, let me give you as much as I know. The appendix is a small organ roughly the size of your pinky finger on any average day. It has no use to speak of, but when inflamed, it swells and will spew deadly toxins into your body unless quickly removed. These days, if you undergo surgery for any other abdominal reason, it's fairly common to remove the appendix even if it's not causing any trouble (kind of like when you're in SoCal visiting relatives; you're there for one reason, but Disneyland is so very nearby, so you might as well): there's no reason to leave in a life-threatening, useless organ, right?

In any case, suffice it to say I was still recovering from the sleeplessness yesterday at lunch when we grilled hot dogs as part of our 4th celebrations. As we indulged in this all-American tradition, I began to wax poetic (as I am wont to do on very little shut-eye and on special occasions). Consider this: On the 4th of July, we celebrate the day we officially kicked the British out. The British (or at least the British sovereignty) had become an unnecessary appendage to to the thriving colonies on the expansive American continent; and the colonies were tired of living under the tyranny and oppressive taxation of a distant government they were allowed no part in. Rather like the appendix, no?