another bullet dodged.

This morning I went for a diagnostic requiring general anesthesia and came through okay and that was a relief. As I grow ever older, stuff I sailed through earlier, seems more worrisome.

I swear I thought I was about to go into the OR, when a nurse said, “You’re done.” I think general anesthesia is the greatest thing since cherry pie.

The only annoyance was that I was originally scheduled for a 7:30 arrival and at the last minute they pushed it forward to 9 a.m. Since I wasn’t to have anything by mouth after midnight, I found the delay very daunting. I need water as I dry out. So I bit the bullet, rinsed my mouth, and gave the scheduling nurse a hard time. Ed said if I wanted to teach them a lesson, I should just say, “Well, then, I have to reschedule,” and that would screw up their day. But I wanted to get the thing done with, so I went along. It was tempting, though.

Dr .Three-Piece-Silk Suit, perfectly pressed, will surely get a stern earful from me when I see him in two weeks.


The nicest thing about coming out of a thing like this is you get to flake out without guilt. I had a long nap and Brunswick came, made a well between my knees (turn, turn, paw, paw, plop) and settled in to protect me from the forces of evil. What a sweet boy is my kitty.

Everything I did during the delay was accompanied by a haunting fantasy that this might be the last time I did any of it. All those years of mastering my music, down the @#$%$ drain. Have you read the disclaimers they hand you to sign off on about things that “could go wrong”? What if, I thunk, I never come out of it? Aside from Ed shooting up the staff, what about me, struck down in me prime (sort of).

xx, Teal

P.S. It is said that general anesthesia destroys brain cells. Can you tell?