It’s life, but I confess to being a little cranky about the changes yesterday. Downright bratty, actually.
After a long interview with the pre-op nurse, the anesthesiologist at the outpatient surgery center cancelled my surgery. I react very badly to anesthesia. Usually I have opposite reactions to any sedation. They have elected to move my surgery to Mercy Hospital…date unknown.
They weren’t happy about one finger all swollen up with a bug bite nor pleased with the fact I’m on antibiotics for the cough either. Which is dramatically better, by the way.
I did say goodbye to everyone in the pool and at work. Everyone smiled, hugged, and wished me well. Now I have to send emails to everyone letting them know I’m still alive, with a damaged hand, and I'll be back. It’s sort of an embarrassment to say goodbye yet still be here. I’ll do that this morning after I weigh in at WW with an expected weight gain. George gained two pounds, I’ve been eating anything with great enthusiasm and so will probably be fractionally larger too. Darn it.
Thursday the temperatures were up in the 89’s at work. Yesterday they were 92 at the high school right above us. Today it is to be hotter still the weather mavens tell us. Probably 94 here and 103 where daughter Margot lives. It’s all slightly better than the last heat wave that moved through here bringing monsoonal moisture. This will be dry heat blown in from the desert floor. Normal here this time of year is 74.
In 1955, feeling that I must be fashionable and trying to blend in, I wore my new wool, tweed pencil skirt and wool sweater set to the first day of school. It was to be 74 that day too. Nope, it was the day I learned about Santa Ana winds that came straight from the desert. Today I can laugh about that young lady’s fashion hopes.