Tomorrow afternoon I am having surgery on my foot. It’s no big deal but I do get about two weeks off of work to recover. Twenty years have passed since my last surgery. I’m generally a healthy guy. This surgery is to correct a sports injury, as was the surgery twenty years ago. So far in my life any bad health has not been due to anything falling off or sickness. I consider myself fortunate.
If I were totally honest, I would have to admit that I enjoy all the attention I am getting due to the impending surgical procedure. Family, friends, coworkers have all been lavishing me with well wishes as well as just plain joking with me about my condition, imitating my limp, sending me pictures of screaming feet, things like that. They give me a chance to solicit pity and incite mayhem by exposing my foot to show off my injury. I put a picture of the foot on Facebook and even here last week.
I don’t care if there is physical pain. What hurts already is the notion that I may not be allowed to ride a bicycle for three months. I am thinking that my other leg is going to be real strong soon. There is no way I am going three months off of the bike.
The preparation has been fun and I am already nearing spoiled status:
- I have Angry Birds pajamas to wear tomorrow.
- I went out last night to the local outlet mall for two hours and bought myself some cool looking orange/black Adidas running shoes to wear.
- My space on and around the couch is carefully arranged for me to claim it for the next few days. Chargers for my iPod and laptop battery are already in place. Pillows and blankets are strategically stashed.
- A friend of mine brought me his collection of the Jack Reacher series of books.
- The dog has been trained to bring me pop from the fridge. I’m still working on him bringing me fresh glasses and ice.
- My son has received specific instruction to make sure the video game controllers and headset are fully charged before he leaves for school each day.
- I had the doctor write a note for my wife, giving instructions that steak must be served to me every day for dinner.
- There are plans for many blogs, likely to be written in the fog of pain killers. I will not share.
- Elizabeth Perkins, my longtime celebrity crush, will be visiting me each to administer daily rub downs. This one has not made it through the spousal approval process as of yet, but I am working on it.
- I am working on my whining skills. It should come natural. I am male, after all.
OK. I’m done.