I wrote this before going into surgery yesterday morning as a vamp for time since I am anticipating having to have overnighted last night at the hospital. Unless something happened like no one on the surgery can find the keys to the operating room.
That will be funny, if this is indeed what has happened. Gotta tell ya, this writing in the future pluperfect is driving me crazy and I'm usually so close I can walk. And I would if I had pants but for part of today I'll be in one of those air-conditioned gowns the fashionistas in St. Tropez are modeling. And what, pray tell, is sexy about nearly-naked butt cheeks, freezing in the breeze?
I am more of a creature of habit than I might like. I spent the last days of February of last year in the hospital as well, at that time for a transient ischemic attack. I think next year I should try a cruise instead, news my wife would welcome I'm sure, as she was ashen by the time we went to the hospital yesterday (and may have been since I was told I required surgery last week, come to think of it).
Truth is, I think I'm addicted to the 'gelatine product' (not Jell-O, a trademarked term) every hospital serves as if it were lark's tongue in aspic. It's not.
I would hope to be more chipper and cheerful tomorrow, assuming this goes as swimmingly as it's supposed to except none of that is my call. So if something has happened, I'm hoping I was under and missed it as I am the consummate coward.
In that case, thanks for stopping in and checking out this space for all these years and if you just stumbled by for the first time today, nobody else will tell you what you missed so you're on your own. As are we all.