Yesterday morning, extreme lecture on the possibilities. The Electrician might get the 3 wires up there only to find that the PVC is not behaving badly--not behaving at all. Then he might on another day have to run the wiring up, all over again. If he gets there and finds something to burn, I being old might have a stroke or die on the table. Poor Heddy. Then the "procedure" (not an intimidating-sounding "operation") started after all. It normally takes a couple of hours. This one took four. Mildly sedated, I was aware of it all but did not feel any tubes going up the chest to the heart. What he found was that the offending node was right by the atrioventricular node, the one which passes on the command of the sinoatrial node.. RIGHTBY. So he had to nibble nibble at the DVC nub without damaging the AV node. It looks as if he succeeded. This means that little by little, hour by hour, my oxygen-deprived mind may come part way back.You can come back but not all the way back, says someone.I think this all means that at first I may remember Tippi Hedren but not her daughter but might someday remember Melanie Griffith also. I think it means that in a few days I can start walking on the beach, maybe half way to Duck Creek at first, then to Duck Creek a few times, then to the Cloister entrance at the start of the Trees, and in a while to 41, my old goal.
[If he had destroyed the AV node, he could immediately put in a humanly-designed pacemaker. THEN I would have been eligible for a pacemaker.]
Now for the horror show:
Big sign on wall in the hospital:
SILENCE IS HEALING
IN 3-BED ROOM, ONE PATIENT PLAYED FOX TV 3-11 pm THEN PLAYED IT AGAIN AFTER the 1 AM ROUSTING AND the 6 AM ROUSTING
I TRIED CUTE LITTLE EARPLUGS AND PILLOW ON ONE SIDE AND COVER ON THE OTHER BUT I HEARD EVERY WORD OF EVERY AD AND EVERY PASSIONATE SPEAKER. As we left he was siting at the end of the bed on the phone, with his little powerful TV blasting 2 feet away.
THEN THEY WOUND ME UP AND SET ME OUTSIDE TO WANDER AS A MAGA MAN MAGA MAN MAGA MAN.
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