To All The Ships At Sea

Having a MAJOR operation certainly elicited a flood of thought and reflection, an examination of life, and an appreciation of all things dear…. if for no other reason than I woke up.  But truly it is more than that, for in a sense I experienced death, or dying, or something close to it.  And that, trust me, will grab your attention.

I replay that day like a syndicated tv rerun.  Talking to the anesthesiologist on my not so free ride to the operating room, I ceased to be.  For over eight hours, I was suspended in nothingness.  I vaguely remember returning to the living, mumbling some nonsensical drivel to anyone within range. In my long nap, I didn’t have any “near death” revelation. I wasn’t perched on the wall near the ceiling watching and listening, and I certainly saw no white light that seemed to beckon me forth, only to turn me away with a wave of the wand.  I was just….gone.  Blackness…nothingness…..no sense of existence.  Now I wonder if, well, that’s just the way it’s going to be folks.  Oh well, food for future pondering fueled by a wine or two. But for now, now that I have a deeper appreciation of just how close we all are to the big sleep, I feel a renewed urge to be close, in presence, or word, or thought, to the many people whose lives have touched mine in some fashion.

So this is to all the ships at sea, and all the ports of call, to those I hold dear and here, and to all friends, those fresh and those weathered, those close by, and especially those so far away.  Each of you has left your fingerprint on my spirit, and given me things that hopefully have made me a better person, or at least one trying to be.  Thank you.  Merry Christmas to you all and a wonderful New Year. :)

Mark Twain Quote:  “The xmas holidays have this high value:  that they remind Forgetters of the Forgotten, & repair damaged relationships.”

Pre-Surgery Week

I have a plan, a definite plan, a logical (?) plan, a (thankfully) short plan.  It's Surgery Week.  Or, should I say Pre-Surgery Week, full of events leading up to the big cut.  And, in my case, hopefully, the little cut.

Monday, I'm off to my primary care doc for a "pre-surgery clearance" visit.  I guess I have to have his blessing that I'm breathing hard enough to enjoy the process that is soon to follow.

On Wednesday, I hit the big three, plus one.  An early morning CT scan, followed by a pre-surgery consult with the actual, factual, surgeon.  He's a guy I like a lot.  The more I talk to him, the more confident I feel about the whole mess.  A friend of mine, prominent in the real estate game hereabouts, had major back surgery done recently by this fellow and loves both the outcome and the person who saved him.  And in the process, I think he sold 2 houses while he was in residence at the hospital.

At 3 pm, I then meet with the anesthesia doc who,  on Monday next, is  going to send me on a short vacation where, hopefully, I will dream only the sweet dreams I want to, and not see any brilliant lights coming my way …. or be relegated to hovering in the corner of the OR, up by the ceiling, watching a bunch of people while they ply their trade on my back.  Just sweet dreams, please.  What I have to do here in the way of "pre-testing," I have no idea.

That makes three for the day.  The plus one is my dentist, who has called twice now to reschedule my check up … and I figured what the hell, the day's shot anyway …. so I fit him in at noon.

Then it's wait till Monday, June 16th, where I have an appointment at Crouse for 10 am.  That's arrival time.   Given my limited experience with other medical procedures, I know surgery won't happen till 2 pm or so.  Hospitals, more than most other institutions, specialize in waiting.  It's an art form, and they're damn good at it.

So, that's that.  I'll check in when I can.  I shan't bring my iPad to the hospital, as I fear I would not leave with it.  Sad to think that, isn't it?  But I'll be in touch, perhaps with a tide you over post before I actually go.

Mark Twain Quote:  "One should not bring sympathy to a sick man.  It is always kindly meant, and of course it has to be taken - but it isn't much of an improvement on castor ooil.  One who has a sick man's true interest at heart will forbear spoken sympathy, and bring him surreptitious soup and fried oysters and other trifles that the doctor has tabooed."