I’m back, obviously, short one gall bladder and a lot of bile.
Sheryl… who is out at the market… made me promise not to go on line the minute I was home, but she had read me many of your comments in my narcotic stupor and I couldn’t relax in my own bed until I had expressed my thanks (or taken a Vicodin). I don’t want to sound maudlin, but I was deeply touched by what you all said. This is an amazing new world we are living in with amazing connections.
More tomorrow when I am (I hope) more sensible. And, yes, I saw a photograph of my own gall bladder before it was sent off to be recycled. And, no, I’m not going to post it. I’ve always believed a writer is only as good as he is willing to share himself honestly with his readers, but some things can go too far. Suffice it to say my gall bladder was not my “good side” and was an onery sucker. It took a while to get out, nearly three hours, but it’s gone. Before I go, a special shout out to my surgeon, Dr. Eiman Firoozmand (yes, an Iranian– Cedars Sinai Medical Center is the true United Nations) who managed to keep my surgery laparoscopic despite all.