Signed, Sealed, Delivered

It is done. As of 3:00 p.m. yesterday afternoon I got final approval for my upcoming bariatric surgery from my cardiology group (after much drama - theirs, not mine) and the insurance carrier. I'm scheduled for surgery this coming Monday, August 11th (time TBA).

Yesterday morning was spent having my pre-admission work done at the hospital. I'm now tagged like a bull walrus, with various colored wrist-bands indicating that I've been x-rayed, peed into a lab vial and had a quart or two of blood drawn.

On Tuesday I had my final "go-see" with the surgeon. He said that the next time I saw him he'd be in scrubs. To which I added, "and some amateur from anesthesiology will be trying to put in an A-line, with no luck, and blood'll be spraying all over the staging area."

He looked kind of freaked out and asked me why I thought that? "Because, " I said, "that's what happened the LAST time I had surgery."

I've been cut up so much in the last 4 years that I'm a) an old hand at it and b) pretty cynical about the whole affair.

Still, I have confidence in him. Him being my surgeon.

Everyone has been taking great pains to stress just how much of a "lifestyle" change this is going to entail. Like they're asking me to turn straight or something. That, of course, simply will never happen.

But I do know a thing or two about lifestyle changes. I did, after all, forsake my best friend, and public enemy number one, alcohol 10 plus years ago. Changing the way I "think" is nothing new to me. I do it all the time. Now.

I'm back at work today and tomorrow and then... that's it.

FYI, I'm still computerless at home (who has time to fix or replace that?) If I'm bored on Saturday and I find I have money to burn, I'll try to get a new one, bring it home and set it up before I go into the hospital. Otherwise, if you have my phone numbers, call me late next week. Theoretically I should be home Wednesday afternoon.

The current plan, with my surgeon's blessing, is to be out of work for about a month, or up to six weeks if he so determines. THIS WORKS FOR ME!!! I love "recuperating."

And if you're so inclined, and you have a favorite deity or higher power you talk to, please put in a good word for me next Monday morning, will ya?

I'd really appreciate it.

Death of a Computer

The Sony VAIO died. Again. This is the 2nd time it's fried a boot drive. I'm sick and tired of Sony computers.

TV's yes. I'll buy a Sony TV any time. But never again will I plunk down a grand for one of their computing products. They suck.

I asked Bev what she uses at home ("Dude! You're gettin' a Dell!")

I asked my friends what they use (everything from hand-me-downs to do-it-yourselfers).

There was a time when I was grateful to get a hand-me-down 1.2ghz Dell with zero expansion slots and a 20gig drive.

There was also a time when I thought it would be "fun" to build my own PC from scratch (motherboard, drives, keyboards, cards, cases with neon lights and watercooled CPUs).

But those days are gone. Too.

I'd like a pc that doesn't lull me into a false sense of security and then blow up on me.

This is not what I needed to kill time the week before my surgery.

I am annoyed.

AND IT'S ALL SONY'S FAULT!!!!!

And The Days Dwindle Down....

Here is how my mind works: Let's say that I wake up in the morning and have 300 things to be grateful for and 2 things to be pissed off about. Guess what I'll spend the day dwelling on?

My life these days is basically happy, loving and secure. I'm surrounded by people I love and whom love me. So, naturally, I spent most of this week being pissed off at my cardiologist who have the NERVE to go on vacation when I needed him to be in town to do some paperwork so I can have my surgery a week from Monday.

Am I crazy?

Yes.

Then, of course, his office called yesterday and we got it all straightened out and now I won't have to postpone the surgery after all and it's still on for a week from this coming Monday (August 11th -- send cash.)

This also means that I get to spend this weekend and next loitering in the stacks at BJ's and Sam's Club looking for bargain cases of College Inn Lo-Fat Chicken Broth and tons of sugar-free Jello (ibid) and other stuff to try to ingest since I'll have to live on that stuff for about a month, supplemented only by the prayers of other recovering alkies and gallons of liquid vitamins.

But this is good. I am eager to have my Type II Diabetes "resolved" (doctors don't like the word "cured"). I am eager not to wind up, like so many of my immediate ancestors did, blind and footless, strapped into wheelchairs in hellhole nursing homes.

I am eager to not have that happen to me.

And for that I am truly grateful.

Maybe I'll get some photos of my weekend and post 'em here next week. BUT NO PROMISES.