Roy and I got up early and took the 6:30 bus down to the hospital. It's a very nice place. After filling out a bunch of forms, we went upstairs and were provided with a private "hotel" room, complete with television and comfortable chair for Roy. At eight o'clock, I was wheeled to another room and connected to a bunch of monitors. I could see the green line of my pulse blipping across the screen. I figured as long as it kept blipping, I was still alive. They stuck an IV in my arm and a couple of tubes in my nostrils. The doctor arrived about 8:20 after being delayed by heavy traffic. The next thing I knew, it was past ten and I was back in the little room with Roy. The nurse brought me some water and orange juice, for which I was grateful, as I hadn't been allowed even a sip of water prior to the procedure. The doctor had left a sheet of instructions with Roy and had also given him a couple of photographs of my innards. They were fascinating! In fact, they looked pretty good. (Roy said it was a perfect likeness.) Everything is normal; no cancer or polyps or anything. So what's causing my problem? I have to see the doctor again next week.
We took the bus home and ate a noon breakfast. Boy, did it taste good! Then I went to bed and slept for two hours. Woke up feeling good, which is fortunate, since our haulout was scheduled for three o'clock. The wind was blowing from the northeast, so we had a difficult time getting out of the slip. Had to grab a line that was attached to a piling and pull ourselves along. Finally got into the channel. From there it was relatively easy, although we had to attach lines to other pilings to swing the boat around and into the slot for the travel lift. When the boat was lifted up, there was the remnant of the old line still wrapped around the propeller shaft. Some of it pulled off, but the final bit had to be cut off.
So now we're back on land. Roy rode his bike to Publix and bought some chicken and stuff. I forgot to ask him to get my prescription filled. Will have to do that first thing tomorrow.
When I dug my stuff out of my bag, I was dismayed to discover that one of the photographs was missing! How could that be? The only thing I could think of was that it had gotten mixed up with some papers I had thrown out. So now I have to go down to the hospital first thing in the morning and see if it's still in the trash. I certainly don't want to lose it. This is a once-in-a-lifetime (I hope) opportunity to see what my insides look like.
(I guess I did not tell my mom that I had the procedure when I was 24, 34, 44, etc, because I had polyps in my colon when I was 24, 34, etc., but I guess I got my innards from my mom otherwise, because they do look good, the polyps are small.)
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