Countdown to Surgery: Monday, Tuesday, then D-Day!

Okay, I finally believe it.

It's gonna happen.

And I will be in pain no more.

The last clearance I had was today at noon. Drove over to the Levy Pavilion, across from the Hospital to see cardiologist Marc Cohen, MD.

I parked for free on a side street, a 15-minute excruciatingly painful hobble to the office, but, then I do like to get my exercise in.

I was in and out of the cardio's office in 45 minutes.

Of course I couldn't find his office once I got inside.

I was fooled cuz his practice, which has 18 cardiologists, is called Abington Medical Specialists, so I'm wandering around the second floor, going from office to office - infectious diseases, urology, phrenology - and finally spoke to a receptionist who told me Room 222.

Nurse Donna did an EKG on me. I didn't even have to wear a hospital gown with duckies on it, just lifted up my shirt.

Naturally my sciatica was horrific. It's trying to show me who's boss.

I liked Marc Cohen a lot. Friendly guy, nice-looking w/ curly gray hair. As you know, I'm partial to curls:


I was sitting up on the exam table in my skirt and tank top while he was listening to my chest.

When he went to my neck, I asked him what he was looking for.

The carotid arteries, he said. They make a particular sound when they're blocked.

Gee, how come I feel like a triple-decker BLT now?

I always bring my current book into the doctor's office with me.

I'm reading a great book, I told him, and flashed Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese, a book that's all about surgery.

My own true love Thomas Starzl, father of organ transplantation is mentioned in there, mingling with fictitious characters like our surgeon heroes: Thomas Stone, his twin sons (conjoined twins separated at birth) Shiva and Marion Stone, Ghosh, Hema and others.

I read it, he said.

Wasn't it great? I asked.

No, I hated it, he said.

He told me he was a literary snob, having majored in English, and not considering the book true literature.

I like all the places it takes us, I said, Ethiopia, India, the Sudan, Boston.

Yeah, he said, I liked when it talked about the Bronx. I went to medical school there.

He also had one of the nurses pull up my recent ultra-sound from when I was in the hospital w/my TIA. We discussed that a few minutes and I told him my new theory that it was not a trans-ischemic attack, but rather confusion deriving from my 102.5 fever.

Your ultra-sound looks great, he said. Everything is normal.

Normal, normal, normal. Such beautiful words. Maybe I'll name my next child Norma. Or, Norman.

You're all set to go.

You don't know how happy you've made me, I said.

Nice firm handshake from the doc.

He left and closed the door behind him. No one was in the room but me.

I slipped on my clogs and decided to get off the exam table by not using the stool they provide you.

I thought I was much closer to the ground than I really was.

I slid off the table, fell forward at terrifying speed - perhaps it was the tissue paper they put on there - and was propelled at dizzying speeds toward the opposite wall.

I stopped my momentum by falling head-forward into a nearby chair.

Talk about humiliation!

My final clearance, is to see Dr Shiang-Cheng Kung, my nephrologist at Einstein, tomorrow morning. He wants to see me in person. Scott and I will drive down for my eight a.m. appointment.

I haven't kept my appts at Einstein b/c I have to wait for four hours before seeing the doctor and my back can't take it.

The nurse promised he'd see me right away.

If not, I'll do what I do at home: Lie down in the middle of the floor and stick my left leg up in the air. It's the only way I get some relief.

Dan will drive Sarah and me to AMH at 6 a.m. on Wednesday. I've got my huge Audubon bag ready with:

- My new back brace which I'll wear after surgery

- My living will, provided at their suggestion. I filled this out shortly after my friend Simon was dying of a couple of cancers. My only concern if I die is: Who will operate the New Directions website? It's really complicated. I still have to consult the direx every time I load it.

- Cell phone.

- Sports drink w/carbs in case my blood sugar goes low. The anestheseologist on Friday said I could drink something clear if I got a lo attack.

- Reading material. I think something light would be good: The Complete Poems of Ruth Z Deming who lived from 1945 until August, 2011.

My Canon camera no longer works, hence lack of photos on here. I'll take it tomro to Authorized Camera Repair and hopefully Matt can fix it in a trice.