It’s 6:04 AM on the day of my surgery. I’m to report to Yesterday I had to go to the hospital to do all the administrative paperwork, get some blood drawn, and a chest x-ray. The x-ray tech introduced himself, “Hi, I’m Mike, and I’ll be your x-ray technician,” and then asked “Do you know why you are getting a chest x-ray today?” This threw me for a loop. I mean, I assumed this type of info would be on that chart neatly tucked under his arm. But I decided to play along, “Well, I’m going in for throat surgery tomorrow, and I suppose during the procedure if the doctor sees anything deeper down my throat that needs attention, he could use the chest x-ray as a map.” Mike didn’t turn back toward me. He shut the door behind me and asked me to take off my shirt. Now ordinarily, when another man asks me to take off my shirt, it’s after a couple of drinks and maybe some playful eye-batting, but Mike was all business. A few seconds later and it was all over. . .the x-ray, that is. -Jeeeesh.
I was instructed to not eat or drink anything after midnight, and I realized immediately that the poor folks at the Taco Bell all-night drive-thru window may have to clock out and go home early. Phil and Claudette, if you’re reading this, I’ll be back as soon as I can, so keep the Chalupas hot! And that brings up another depressing thought. The lovely dinner that Ema made for me last night was my ‘last supper’ for at least two weeks. I suppose eating less will be a good thing, but eating far less is going to be a shock to my system. You see, my side dishes are bigger than most peoples’ main courses. It’s not unusual for me to have lasagna with a side of tostada grande.
Well, I better go and not drink or eat anything now. I’ll check in tomorrow with the first of several post-surgery updates. Thanks for your time, your patience, and your well-wishes. - Tom
