In two days, My current hospital stay will pass the six weeks mark. The day will go unnoticed except for the Cardiology panel’s likely reassessment of my options. There are always at least two schools of thought and a rogue opinion that weigh in.
While I appreciate the time and consideration of so many dedicated professionals, I am nonetheless a tad hesitant and uncomfortable that many pertinent decisions are reached by contentious consensus. Mortality is never an easy issue.
That all dressed up and now said, I am more energetic, stable, alert, and (Hark, I sense that wretched snare-drum roll, Lillian!) nauseous. That suggests an oft overlooked perk to deliria, fever, and being just South of “out of it”. One is too groggy to either care or remember.
Spank me silly, Mr DeeJay. If I take an Adavan, put on my earphones, and listen to Mott the Hoople or Sir Bolan, will I …?
Will I stop analyzing, start distracting those inner voices, and simply embrace a transcendental approach to time management?
Oy ve. There is so much to forget, especially with one less hour in my late night.
“One less egg to fry!” Methinks this new approach is working, MAYBE.
Check back in one more month.
(Images: “Suite Basque” by Ignacio Goitia, 2016.)