I’m on my way to a minor surgery. It shouldn’t be too big a deal, but everyone I know gets nervous. We didn’t know about the upcoming running event. I’m superstitious, and some things just freak me out. I remember hearing “We Don’t Talk Anymore” by Cliff Richard when I got into my car in 1980, when my high school sweetheart broke up with me. We never stopped talking again. Wonder where she is? It’s been almost 30 years, so is the concussion better?
Well, I use my iPod on the stereo as an alarm. I set it on random play for my songs, and each morning I wake up to something amazing. Today, I woke up to Don McLean singing “American Pie”. You might not know the song, but it’s a classic.
So bye-bye, miss American pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye
Singin, "this'll be the day that I die.
"this'll be the day that I die."
Rest assured, my superstitions have never proven unfounded, so I am confident in my well-being. However, I am perplexed by the significance of this wake-up call. I interpret it as a profound reminder to exercise utmost caution and meticulous attention during the recovery process from anesthesia and minor surgical procedures, particularly for an individual of my age, who is undertaking a weight loss goal of 50 pounds.
Incidentally, I have observed a distinct bruise extending from my mid-chest to my shoulder. Its width varies from approximately one inch at the base to a maximum of five inches at the shoulder. While I am able to elevate my arm to shoulder height, I am unable to lift it beyond that point. The pain persists. Fortunately, I intend to take Advil later today, a relief I have eagerly anticipated since my bicycle accident on Saturday.
UPDATE: Surgery went fine. ACL issues were negligible. The calcium issue is about 6 weeks before we run. I am loopy and going to rest (Update posted 2:30 PM Friday the 17th of July)
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