I probably had a harder time with it all than Steve did. He just rolls with the punches. I, on the other hand, wake up at 3am worried sick that he's died in a Korean hospital and left us all alone to ourselves. He chills out in his (tiny) recovery room with his (Korean) roommate, watching Korean TV shows and sipping on seaweed soup. I agonize over weather we should have opted for the nicer, international hospital in Suwon or Seoul and cry over the awful conditions he's being subjected to in the rinkadink clinic he went to(dramatized in my own head, I'm sure). He tells me "it's fine." I say "it's not." We complement each other wonderfully.
Aside from the fact that he was subjected to K-pop music and he shared a room with another patient (including during medical examinations), had to bring his own "supplies," the bed was really hard, the heat turned way too high and his (Korean sized) hospital pj's resembled a mid-rift and capri's on Steve's (American-sized) frame he said his experience "wasn't that bad." It got the job done, only cost about $400 (which is a bummer of an unexpected cost but nothing compared to what surgery in the States would cost) and was done within a 40 minute walk of our apartment (so Caleb and I could walk and visit him every day).
We are oh-so-very-glad to have him back home with us and even up and around
more than he should be some.