"With the help of a surgeon, he might yet recover..." (MSND)

.....Well, I did a disappearing act the last few days because I was hospitalized with I still don't know what. All I know is that four of us went to a Chinese restaurant for a lobster dinner, and when we finished and started out for my car, I began to feel a tightness in my chest--but I drove everyone home anyway. Just so happens that the other couple lives on our floor. When we got home and I walked for the elevator I told Rho to call 9/11 because by this time the pain in my chest was not bearable--as they say, a 10. In the lobby by our elevator I sat on the bench and waited for the fire/rescue guys who came in about five minutes. They whisked me into the truck and on the way to the hospital they zapped me with some nitro-G. Rho and Annette followed me to the ER where the nurse poured some more nitro and some morphine into my body. However, it did little good; the severe pain lasted about an hour and a half, but then the medication die take over and the pain was slowly alleviated. If that hadn't happened, I would have shot myself with my starter's pistol. That wouldn't have done much good either.

.....I spent three nights and three days three days in that facility and they took every test imaginable that didn't feel good;i.e an X-Ray, a Catscan, an Ultra-Sound and as I recall, a Thalium Stress Test. Me--who ran two marathons couldn't do it on a treadmill. Did I get any results? No. Several doctors looked in on me; a cardiologist, a pulmonologist, my internest, a gastroenterologist(!) and several curious nurses who wanted to see what everyone was raving about--a good looking older guy. What I didn't see, but should have was a psychiatrist. I"m home now, but by this time, you could tell that I arrived here as a raging lunatic. I'm not even going to write anything about the food--my gorge rises at the thought. What puzzled me no end was why the nurses continually insisted at putting my urinal at a point where I could not reach it without a whale-hook. Hospitals are not what they used to be; they're worse.

.....If anyone is interested, there are a few comments on the previous blog: primarily about the 50th Reunion of North Shore High School's Class of 1960! Over 100 people attended. Let's see; if the kids were about 18 when they graduated, they must almost all be about--shall we say, 68? Well on their way to canes, walkers, medication, scooters, and wheelchairs. But seriously; what Phil B. writes about that party is very interesting. I wonder how many people would attend the 70th reunion of my class of '41? I most likely have much more to write about, but it will have to wait. I'm not "with it"--as perhaps you can witness.