Happy belated birthday to Ann.
I spent six hours at the hospital yesterday filling out admissions paperwork, having an MRI and an x-ray, giving blood, and speaking with a neurosurgeon and an anesthesiologist. Among other things, the three most important bits of information I learned were: 1. The surgery is three hours long NOT 30 minutes as I was originally told, 2. Enjoy my shower the morning of the surgery because I can't take another one for five days, and 3. I get to keep the piece of bone they need to remove from my spine in order to get to the disc. Cool.

I have no problem with a three hour surgery, I mean hey, take all the time you need. But then, as soon as it's over, they wake you up from a perfectly good buzz to ask you if you can feel your legs. And if I can't? Gee, you don't think it had anything to do with that piece of my spine you took out, do you? I hang out in recovery for about an hour before they send me back to my room where, hopefully, I'll remain pleasantly stoned for the rest of the day. Wishful thinking maybe, but I'm not taking my computer to the hospital counting on the fact that I'll be too wasted to use it. A few comic books maybe, a finger puppet or two, nothing too technical or that requires any kind of attention span.

I know I always go for the laugh, it's my way of dealing with things and sometimes it actually works. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about all this, but to use another Popeye quote, "I ain't no doctor, but I know when I'm losing me patience". Over the past year I feel like I've done all I can do to fix or improve my condition without surgery. It's time to resort to modern technology. Dr. King told me there's no reason for me to live like this. He also told me I'll be kicking myself for wasting all this time and not having it done sooner. But if I had had the surgery last year I'd always wonder whether I could have improved without it. Now I don't have to worry about that. Unless of course the surgery doesn't work either.

Oh, and about that piece of bone they're taking out of me, if anybody's kid needs something to hang on the end of a summer camp lanyard, let me know.

... to be continued.

"That's all I can stands, I can't stands no more" ...Popeye.

I don't believe that our lives are predetermined. I do believe that occasionally things happen for a reason, and if I'm lucky enough to pick up on the signs I try not to ignore them. As of Wednesday at 1700 I honestly believed I had improved enough to try going back to work. As I posted earlier, if I wasn't up to it after a couple of trips I would seriously consider having the surgery. At 1715, after an hour on the phone with our medical department trying to determine why they had denied my doctor's fax (for the second time) clearing me to return to work, I had the first sign (or maybe the denied clearance was the first sign). I threw my back out so bad, I felt like I had time-warped back to the day I went into the clinic ...three months of progress gone in a flash. Although not quite as severe as before, the shift and nerve pain immediately returned, and sitting, standing, and walking were extremely painful.

I was able to see Dr. King on Thursday without an appointment, his last day of work before going on vacation (sign #2). He phoned his friend Director Professor Doctor of Medicine Robert Schönmayr (Dr. Bob), who had just returned from his vacation and is completely booked for the next month, and was able to get me in at 1500 that afternoon (sign #3). After consulting with Dr. King and discussing the options with me, he scheduled the surgery (microdiscectomy) for next Thursday, April 8th ...how's that for service (Sign #4)! The good news is I won't miss the MANU v BAYERN match on Wednesday night (sign #5), the bad news is that Dr. Bob is a big FC BAYERN fan. Let's hope the outcome of the game doesn't effect his performance in the operating room the next morning.

Sign #6: Doctor Bob's wife is a retired Lufthansa flight attendant, so I'm thinking maybe industry discount here.

Sign #7: Doctor Bob says there are plenty of football players in the Bundesliga who have suffered this injury, and after having the surgery, continue to play. If the Bundesliga is confidant enough with the results of this surgery to keep paying some guy a seven or eight figure salary, then surely United will see fit to take me back at the poverty level wage at which they retain me.

to be continued..........