I'm vamping today as early yesterday morning I went into Yale-New Haven Hospital to have arteries in my thighs roto-rotored (I have no idea of the Latin terminology). It's actually a procedure called plaque excision, which doesn't sound Latin at all (take my word for it; I was Marcus Aurelius in an earlier life).
According to the physician performing the procedure, it's a routine remedy for peripheral vascular disease. I'm glad one of us is practiced in this because no matter how often I go under the knife (and I have a bunch of times, way more now that I think about it), the sweat pumps get to working overtime from about the moment I hang up the phone after being told the day and date of the surgery.
This one, like the ventricle exploration about three years ago, requires me to stay awake though I could have passed on that. By about the time you're reading this, I am hoping to be looking out a window at the "Q" bridge construction which would require my having Lasik surgery as well since the hospital is some distance from the bridge.
I have, as I've mentioned, a very high threshold for pain-as long as it's other people's. Unlike this situation from Crimestopper's Textbook of a couple of days ago, where non-traditional drugs were used to sedate and subdue, I suppose. The problem with street stuff, I'm told, is your mileage my vary. Of all the white coats in my medical posse, I don't have a plastic surgeon mainly because plain paper bags are still so much cheaper.
I do know the next time someone tells me I look good enough to eat, I'll be happy I chose to have the plaque excision and to buy new sneakers. I don't need to be so healed that I can outrun my complimenter-I just need to be able to outrun you.
-bill kenny
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