So, plans are starting to take shape. My surgery is scheduled for Monday morning, 8am. Pre-game starts at 6am. For anyone that knows really anything about me, you can be sure that I will be of the brightest eye and the bushiest tail at that time...followed closely by the ball of fun I'm sure to be post-op! Woot!
My mom and I will be heading back to Cincinnati early Friday for my pre-op activities...I have no idea what that entails, but I think my mom will benefit from being able to shake the hand of my doctor, and maybe instill the fear of God into him a little. Failing that, at least the fear of Jan Monforton. I'm already confident that Dr. T. will do a wonderful job but it doesn't hurt to show him that he'll have a number of people to answer to should he get a little lax with the scalpel. (I was born in Detroit. I'm telling you: three phone calls.)
Until then, I'm focused on enjoying the homestead...I had dinner last night with my other parents and grandparents (Sal, Buzz, Frank, Dorie) and I'm still full from it. Even though I've been friends with Katie for over a decade, I still have to pinch myself at how lucky I am to have been embraced by her family. Come hell or high water, my life has been made better by knowing them.
I've been trying to be someone active the past few days...Jan and I took a slow, easy stroll last night through the neighborhood, and it was good. I just about bit her head off when I stepped into a shallow puddle, as though it was her fault...probably not the best judgement call on my part considering my mom is already running on 8-cylinders of Maternal Panic. How do parents handle that? I get worried enough about friends and family when they are faced with challenges without adding the whole element of, y'know, flesh-of-my-flesh concept. (I was given one of those tongue-in-cheek "How To Handle Yourself In Any Situation" books, and one of the chapters was about animal attacks. And it seemed like there were two sets of rules...one for facing an angry or hungry animal, and one for facing an animal around its babies. It was made very clear to me what situation had a better possible outcome, and I hope that Dr. T. understands that concept as well...he should not mess with Jan and Doug's cub/pup/gosling/duckling or it'll be Grizzly Man all over again minus the discerning eye of Werner Herzog.)
Anyway...I'm off. Katie, in her infinite awesomeness, is also quite the hostess and she's making a meal to shame the likes of Ina Garten tonight. Jan and I scored an invitation to that table-- can't wait.
Thanks again for reading and responding-- this has been a fun experiment!
From the vehicle of Dana's arrival on this planet: It doesn't matter how old the hatchlings are, the mommyness factor never goes away. However, I don't think a handshake from me would instill the fear of God in anyone, much less a scalpel-wielding neuro-wizard. Rather, I am grateful that there exists on this earth people who can look at n MRI and say, "Here's what we're going to do."
ReplyDeleteMaybe while Dr. T. & Co. are poking around in there, they'll find a clue as to which outpost in the universe sent Dana here in the first place (for which I continue to be very blessed.)
Jan
Holy ass. Mom, you're like a box of dogs. All different kinds, all with fat paws and warm bellies and eyes that don't quite open.
ReplyDeleteDid we confirm the hottie mcdoctorson was married?
ReplyDelete