Sleeping Sprite

But I'll still sing you love songs, written in the letter of your name.
The rain is gonna come, oh it surely looks like rain. Bob Weir/John Barlow

It was almost a year before I saw the forest sprite hidden in the rocks of this picture I took of Jemez Falls.

There were other curious things found in this picture, perhaps we will revisit them another day.

I needed to be at the hospital in Hillcrest at 8:30 a.m. for my surgery this morning.

Traffic was horrible, thank god for Leslie and the carpool lane. Got there in the nick of time.

She dropped me off in front of Scripps and I made my way to the now very familiar Surgery Center on the second floor.

Can do it with my eyes closed.

They had initially thought I could be there for six hours, ended up taking a little more than four.

I met my cancer doctor for a brief instant and then the anesthesiologist, who was a pretty chill dude.

We went over my allergies and contraindication history and decided on the cocktail to put me out. I had only one request, I needed to go to sleep listening to the Grateful Dead. He said not a problem.

My i.v in place in my left arm (the veins in the right elbow now full of scar tissue from too many pokes,) I was wheeled to the operating room. I talked a bit about Asian food with my nurse, who was of Chinese extraction but grew up in Arlington Heights. She went to Loyola. The anesthesiologist chimed in that he went to Northwestern.

This was a good sign, I have always got along exceedingly well with Chicago people. They found my station, channel 23 and soon I heard Bob Weir letting me know that it looks like rain. I was hoping for a Jerry song but it would do and soon I was entering my torpor accompanied by the dulcet guitar licks of Mr. Garcia. It is a long time habit of mine and all of my doctors to date have played along.

I told them that they could switch to polka for all I care while I was out.

I came to and felt pretty good considering. Made small talk with a burka'd Somali woman in the recovery room. Took a couple tylenol for discomfort and Leslie showed up right on time. A lot of people have balance issues waking up but I am an old hand and instantly had my sea legs.

I hadn't eaten or drank since the night before and we decided to go get some noodles, my de rigueur method of recuperation. 

We hightailed it to my current fave, Shan Xi Magic Kitchen on Balboa.

It is my ultimate comfort food, beef brisket and fat hand ripped noodles. 

Gets no better.

Chased it down with their excellent salted and vinegar-ed cucumbers.

Not as good as Spicy City but close.

Afterwards we went next door to the great and super clean Chinese Bakery, Tastee for some sweet treats including an excellent eclair.

We drove home and I started to feel the surgery. I laid down and chilled for most of the afternoon. 

It was miserable two weeks ago and I hope that I don't repeat that.

Doesn't feel good but I have felt worse.

I am not sure when I will get my biopsy results but will let those of you interested know. 

It is the waiting stage right now, whatever will be, will be. If I can get through the next ten days without a UTI or complication I will feel very blessed.

I have an appointment with a different doctor down there on Friday but will cancel unless I feel a whole lot better. Need to chill.

I appreciate all your good wishes and the beautiful flowers from Blake, Kim and John.

*

The only real bummer, short of having my penis ported with a hard tubular object and my bladder scraped and burned like a piece of charred salmon skin stuck to the bottom of the cast iron pan, is that I saw what I weighed on the scale today. 

My habit is not to look but I stupidly did today. Turns out that all this cooking I have been doing has pushed my payload up twelve lbs., now past the eighth of a ton mark. Jesus. 

Will definitely leave this mortal coil with a gluttonous smile, if that is what is in the cards. 

Thanks for following along at home.

Fingers still crossed.