You’d think there’d be a story

After the whole work-up of getting to the bottom of the problem with my high calcium – to use a roller coaster of a phrase – one would think I would be chockful of stories of “the surgery”.  In fact, some even remarked, “I’ll bet this will be on the blog.”

But, no. That’s not the situation. Oh, there are stories all right and they’re scattered around me, but I haven’t fully embraced them yet. I am not in a mood to take a deep breath and let the humorous details pour out.  (However, the nurse who used the code word “privates” has popped forth in one little anecdote.)

Maybe it is the adjusting to new parathyroid levels and calcium levels; maybe it is this rash I have that itches. I’ll come around to it though – the telling about Ivor, for instance, who made me think of Igor and the wild surgery in the castle with the lightning and  . . . No, don’t let your imagination run wild when headed to a gurney ride.