Absence of Proof is Not Proof of Absence

Another day of 'in advance' writing as, with some luck, I will hopefully be getting out of the hospital today which marks two days in a row I'm typing that even though in all likelihood it'll really be tomorrow. My experience, based on previous hospital stays, is they never give you enough sheets to be able to tie them together and slip out a window, at least not form the fourth floor which is where I am.

Of course, if I did accomplish such a feat that might well change the whole rehab schedule--after all, how much work does a guy with a brand-new knee really need if he shimmied down four floors of sheets tied together? They won't know whether to send me someone from the Visiting Nurse Association or The A-Team (you can tell 'em apart by the music; that's how I do).

I am hoping that today is the day I head out, for any number of reasons, to include that, after awhile, I wear out my welcome and the nurses and all the health care professionals have hard enough jobs without my unending 'are we there yet?' Quiz Kid antics. No matter how much of a work-out I get with the knee-bending machine it will not tire me out which is bad news for everyone who has contact with me.

I have already promised everyone taking care of me to behave myself, because I always do and I don't intend to be a nuisance, but that's what happens. In the non-hospital mode, I have things like the Internet and email to distract me and none of that will be going on, so everyone and everything will get my undivided attention. Good luck with that, and sorry for the head noise.

Anyway, assuming this has all worked out just swell and there have certainly been enough very talented people involved in it to go like clockwork (the only amateur is I), I could be sleeping in my own bed tonight, awakening tomorrow to wish my bride of thirty-one years 'alles Gute zum geburtstag' and have her ask, more in exasperation than curiosity, 'bist Du immer noch hier?' Like I'm gonna be able to run away.
-bill kenny