Friday, July 1

9:35 am
Hospital

Sitting here in my private room, waiting for the Doc to come back.  Nurse Shannon gave me my Happy Pill to relax me before they put me on the cart and roll me down the hall to give me the really good drugs.  The ones that send me off to Dreamland while they Roto-Rooter my knee.

Can somebody please explain to me why I have to wear a hospital gown when the Doc's operating on my knee?  This ain't like last time, when I had my balls cut open and knitted back together.

Good thing I wore underwear this time, ha ha.

Nice hospital they have here in Dublin.  This looks more like a hotel room than a hospital room.  It's not white, not sterile looking.  Very posh.  I'm sitting in a leather recliner, not on a table or a hospital bed.  There's even a ficus plant.

The Rock Star Procedure Room, ha ha.

But I only get to prep and recover here.  Guess they do the actual cutting down the hall in the operating room.  That's probably a good thing.

I'm fucking starving.  Haven't eaten since before the show last night.  Just water.  First thing I'm doing when I wake up is getting some damned sushi.

Cate is giggling at me.  Apparently I'm making faces while I scribble in my little book.  I told her she better be nice to me, I'm about to go into major fucking surgery.  Never know what could happen in there.

She told me not to even joke about that.

Oh yeah.  That's probably not cool.  After all, she's been through more of this than I have.  For way worse stuff.  Whoops.

I am starting to feel a little relaxed.

Cate's reading my chart.  Out loud to me.  Said she just wants to be sure everything sounds right, it's always a good idea for a family member to double-check things with the Doc and the Nurses.

This procedure I'm having is a Meniscusectomy.  I can write it but I can't say it.  Menis-cus-ectomy.  Meniscus-ectomy.  Anyway, Doc's cutting out the tear in my meniscus so it won't tear more.  Getting rid of the problem.

Cate says I'm wrong.  It's not a Meniscus-ectomy.  It's a Menis-ectomy.

And she said the Doc's handwriting isn't very good.  The M kinda looks like a P.  And that's a whole different kind of surgery.  One that will probably render my vasectomy reversal obsolete.

Hey!  That's not funny!

And my Wife is laughing at the fact that I may come out a Eunuch.  Great.

You don't tug on Superman's Cape, remember?  And you sure as Fuck don't amputate him.

I don't like where this conversation is going.  Think I need to lie down.