Sorry that this is a slower read today, but I'm typing with one hand following wrist surgery yesterday. And it didn't go well, so this could be problematic for a while. It's definitely going to mess with my shooting, flying, bike riding, scuba diving and other fun stuff. Oh, and work too, but this happened there and they haven't exactly been stand-up about accommodating me or paying for the medical bills so they can go to hell.
But the surgery center was at least good for some chuckles yesterday. For one thing, they like to ask redundant questions. I've got a wrist band on with my name on it, but everyone coming up to me would take my wrist, look at the band, then ask me my name. After a bit of this, I decided that I could be just as silly.
Nurse: "Hi. What's your name?"
Me with a grin: "What do you think my name is?"
Different nurse a minute later (after I told the last one who I was): "Hi. What's your name?"
"My name is Elmer J. Fudd, millionaire. I own a mansion and a yacht."
Anesthesiologist a few minutes later, as I'm on the operating table: "What's your name?"
Me (with best Sean Connery accent): "Bond, James Bond."
Anesthesiologist (holding my wrist band): "Come on now."
Me (with best Sean Connery accent): "do you expect me to talk?"
Anesthesiologist (with a pretty good Ernst Blofeld accent): "No, Mr. Bond...I expect your name!"
Me (laughing): Well played, sir! You I'll tell."
Earlier, the doctor had stopped in to see me. She took a marker and wrote her initials on the arm that the surgery was supposed to be on. She's kinda hot and had no wedding ring on so I asked her if she was giving me her phone number for later. Alas, she told me that she was just doing that to be sure that she operated on the correct wrist. Well gee, doc...Maybe the brace that's already on it might be a clue, too, eh? She went away but rather carelessly left the marker where I could get it, and when she came back a minute later, her initials were on both arms, my forehead, and my prosthetic leg over in the chair. And yes, I'd checked to make sure that it wasn't a permanent marker.
Immature, I know, but why undergo surgery if you can't have a little fun while you're there? And as for that doctor, She is attractive and she obviously has a good job. I'll have to work this one when I go back for my follow-up.
But I walked out of there a while later so doped up that I did not even mind Proud Hillbilly's driving.
So now I'm home. Spending the day reading and taking pain meds. And when work calls, I'm not gonna answer the phone. (I will return their calls, but only after I'm sure that they've gone home for the day. "Hey, sorry I missed your call.." I'll tell their voice mail. Call me back tomorrow.) Lather, rinse, repeat. This game of phone hide-and-seek never gets old.