One Year + Counting

  

    I noticed the date earlier today when I got up, started the backup genset and looked to see whats going on in the world. December 13, hmm, it kind of rung a bell...but it didn't. Valentine's Day! OH SH*T! No wait, that wasn't it.  I couldn't come up with any pending birthdays, but that's not too unusual.  Of course, it was my dog's birthday! Good Old Fang has been gone over 20 years now, but you know how it is. I thought back when she got me as a pup just before one long ago Christmas, ...but no, she would have been several weeks old by this time.

Friday The 13th maybe?, that didn't work out either but I recalled using that in a post I did at the end of last year. And it came to me. This day a year ago I was on day one of a doctor ordered vacation in one of Vancouver's finer hospitals. The post was called lamely enough, It Only Hurts When I laugh. 

   I can't says I recall much of the first day of my little expense paid vacation, at least after that tricky anesthesiologist got her hands on me. My last thought was, "It doesn't work on me! It doesn't work on me! I refuse to succumb!"  But succumb I did. 

   Next thing I hear a far away voice calling me by name, and telling me its time to wake up. If you have ever been there, after major surgery in that deep dark place, you will know despite what they say, its not quite time to wake up. But wake you up they do.  After the circuits began to warm up I opened one eye a little to peek around and see if I was in the morgue.

"Are you wondering where you are?" the nurse asked pleasantly. I bet she gets asked that one lots. 

"You are in Lions Gate hospital", I can still hear her say, "...you've had surgery".

Well that didn't clear things up a whole lot, because I felt like I had been thrown out a third story window, rolled down an escalator the wrong way, then used as a target for a knife throwing demonstration, by a guy with bad aim.

I lay there, half witted, and cross-eyed, attempting to comprehend my surroundings.

"Looks like your getting back to normal!" she says cheerfully, then walks off.

I wish I could have shared in her optimism at the time.

   So I was laying there, held immobile by heavy, hot blankets and looking around. Over across the room I can see a clock above a doorway. I'm pretty sure I didn't have my glasses on, I probably didn't know I needed them, but I'm looking at this clock and see the big hand on the 12 and the little hand on the 3. "9 o'clock?, those dumb bastards" I thought to myself, they knock me out at 7 and wake me up at 9! The procedure was supposed to take most of the day, and figured they must have lost interest or something, or gone on to something more important. I was going to bring it up with the nurse when she came around again. And like a half witted cross-eyed fool I did, she assured me that it indeed read 3 o'clock, and not 9 o'clock.
Now I was really confused, but mercifully, drifted off to sleep. 

   That was December 13, one year ago. And today, I look and feel better than I have for years. I thought the day might be worthy of lighting a candle, an anniversary of sorts, and the first of many, I hope. So thanks to Dr. Hoag and his henchmen, and herbal supplements, here's to being a one year cancer survivor.