Let me take you back to 5 days ago, I was nervously waiting in the surgery admissions office. I was promptly changed into hospital attire and several friendly people popped in to say who they were and what they needed to do, some of them poked me with needles and some just said, “I’ll see you after surgery.” The last person to come in was the anesthesiologist who injected me with what he called the St. Jude’s Margarita, the full effect of 3 top shelf margarita’s in about 10 seconds, to which I said the only thing I could say, “Whoa.” They promptly wheeled me into the O.R. I remember nothing of this, except my surgeon greeting me and everyone coaxing me to scootch over from the gurney to the operating table. (to be continued, I can’t sit here long enough to do the whole story in one sitting…)

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