OK. Which one of the above really looks like he has a heart attack due in 25 minutes? You Sunsabitches BETTER get stress tested asap. This sucked.
Love, Hoss
Thursday, January 5, 2012
More creepy coincedences
I recently found out that my other savior on THE DAY, is a nursing student from Hofstra that I strongly suspect was on the swim team. If she is the perfect woman, I suspect she was middle distance, breast stroke, and also played water polo.
There are no finer athletes that swimmers as far as I can see.
Thank you, Aneeka.
There are no finer athletes that swimmers as far as I can see.
Thank you, Aneeka.
Stories from the OR A/K/A No one reads this thing anyhow
So, December 20th was the final day under the knife. I'm alive, and getting stronger daily, so that's all that counts.
However...
I was checking in to the operating room and a voice from the past caught my attention. I look up, and my closest teammate from college is walking past me, too rapidly to react, as I was still in line. I check in, and am told to immediately proceed to the abattoir. I couldn't pass on Auld Lang Syne though, so I walk over to my voice from the past and rapidly ask the guy "If I said the name Joe Bressler, would it mean anything to you?" (being a really stupid, freshman dorm room nickname from the chicks on my floor freshman year for him)
He looked up, grinned HUGELY and said Hi Scott. As if I had just hung out on the Old North Bridge drinking beers and desecrating British graves with him last night, not 3 decades ago. In the 20 seconds I had, I learned his son, who wound up very OK, was in for something, same bat time, same bat station, as myself.
So...considering the circumstances, I was on as great a high from odd coincidences as I could be. I go into surgery prep area, and POW, I walk into him again. He's there to, correctly, hold his son's hand through the scary part. Lucky kid. I say hi and enter my area. And forget about him.
My prep guy goes to work. Sterilizing my torso, wrapping me in warm blankets, and finally, breaking out the razor. All seemed normal. I had actually asked if I should do that part myself, in advance, but was told not to. This guy goes to town on me and I mostly ignored it. Until I looked down, saw my freshly shaved chest, and out of no where, yelled out "Hey, Joe, the last time my chest was this shaved, you were in the room with me then too!"
The laughter that rained down around me brightened EVERYONE'S mood, and hearing Joe trying to explain THIS to the people in the room was even funnier to me.
That almost made the whole dyinginthestreetheadinjurybraindamagetubeinmychest thing worth it.
Well probably not. But at least it amused me for a minute, and that is all I need from my comedy.
However...
I was checking in to the operating room and a voice from the past caught my attention. I look up, and my closest teammate from college is walking past me, too rapidly to react, as I was still in line. I check in, and am told to immediately proceed to the abattoir. I couldn't pass on Auld Lang Syne though, so I walk over to my voice from the past and rapidly ask the guy "If I said the name Joe Bressler, would it mean anything to you?" (being a really stupid, freshman dorm room nickname from the chicks on my floor freshman year for him)
He looked up, grinned HUGELY and said Hi Scott. As if I had just hung out on the Old North Bridge drinking beers and desecrating British graves with him last night, not 3 decades ago. In the 20 seconds I had, I learned his son, who wound up very OK, was in for something, same bat time, same bat station, as myself.
So...considering the circumstances, I was on as great a high from odd coincidences as I could be. I go into surgery prep area, and POW, I walk into him again. He's there to, correctly, hold his son's hand through the scary part. Lucky kid. I say hi and enter my area. And forget about him.
My prep guy goes to work. Sterilizing my torso, wrapping me in warm blankets, and finally, breaking out the razor. All seemed normal. I had actually asked if I should do that part myself, in advance, but was told not to. This guy goes to town on me and I mostly ignored it. Until I looked down, saw my freshly shaved chest, and out of no where, yelled out "Hey, Joe, the last time my chest was this shaved, you were in the room with me then too!"
The laughter that rained down around me brightened EVERYONE'S mood, and hearing Joe trying to explain THIS to the people in the room was even funnier to me.
That almost made the whole dyinginthestreetheadinjurybraindamagetubeinmychest thing worth it.
Well probably not. But at least it amused me for a minute, and that is all I need from my comedy.
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