The Last Laugh

The cardiologist had described my cholesterol-caked arteries as being like a "ticking time bomb." Heart attack or stroke could have occurred at any moment, he claimed, his words prompting mental images of a cackling Death wiring sticks of dynamite together; his skeletal hands carefully setting the hands of some clockwork mechanism to detonate at the chime of midnight; then supernaturally strapping this device around my poor heart when I was unaware. Fortunately some angelic soul alerted the Earthly bomb disposal squad to my plight before Death could complete his fiendish plan.
Such idle thoughts, naturally, conjure further flights of morbid fantasy: did my astral self play its proverbial game of chess with Death, for example, while my physical body lay anesthetized upon the operating table? Probably not, as it happens, because I simply can't imagine myself speaking gobbledygook like "Rook to King's Bishop five," even in the supernatural realm.
Combined with a little paranoia, these daydreams continue through recovery: after all, successfully dodging Death's scythe on the first stroke doesn't mean it won't suddenly return later and cut you down on his back-swing. Perhaps Death is a golfer rather than a chess player, pitching and putting his way around the hospital: the heart disease hole is probably a par 4, and fortunately I got lost somewhere in the rough.
In reality, of course, since bypass surgery is virtually a routine procedure these days, there was only an incalculably small chance that the patient might die; only the remotest possibility that a cloaked and hooded figure might be lurking in the shadows of the operating room, hoping that someone will flatline sooner or later. Death must have much better ways to spend his time, however measureless and infinite his time is. Which means the operation must be pretty boring for Guardian Angels too, sent to merely keep an eye on things. 'Bring a book,' they are probably told. 'You can read by the light of your own beneficence.'
Ah yes, I can joke now but truth be told I was worried then. I suppose this is what is meant by the phrase "having the last laugh."

Comments

[Laurent]

I suppose surgery is never routine when it's performed on yourself.

[Giric]

We are truly grateful for your surgeons skill and dexterity, without such, believe me, there is no such thing as a routine operation. You are fortunate in that you had such a professional to depend on. That there are such people who enjoy mucking about in our insides to the betterment of our health somewhat amazes me.
When you trust someone with your life, to go under the knife, you must pray that you do not get one of those left over ghouls from the middle ages with a penchant for rusty knives and dull needles that leaves you with a scar reminiscent of a Freddy Krueger movie. I myself have experienced such a thing. I was assured that the modern procedure for a hysterectomy could now be down with no scar at all. I awoke to the information that I had nearly left this world for lack of blood. That during the, "routine procedure," something had gone very wrong and that the over twelve inch scar was there because, they had, had to go for my guts in a hurry, to find the bleeder. Now don't get me wrong I am very happy to be here, but it's a bit of a shock to the system, I can tell you. That was nearly fifteen years ago and like all things, "This too shall pass." Did I have bad dreams for months afterwards? I really now couldn't say, as I just don't remember. What I can say is that a simple recovery turned into a much more complicated one.
Take it one day at a time Stephen and you'll be right as rain before you know it.

I know! I know!! The BOREDOM! The BOREDOM!! What's to be done with the BOREDOM?!!! This is a Dragon whose slaying is nigh on impossible. It even creeps out suddenly from out the pages of your favorite books. T.V. will not do, even visits from well wishers can make you want to scream. It is no small wonder your mind begins to drift into morbid wanderings, but I say old man, get a grip!!! The mind is a silly thing and you musn't let it get the better of you!

[Giric]

Another day is done, working at the R.A.G. (random access gift)shop (not its true name). My feet are killing me. I really must come up with a better reply to some of the things inane shoppers ask. If you have fifteen of the same scarf in all the colors of the rainbow, they will ask for the one color you don't have and when you say I'm sorry we do not have it in that color, then they want you to special order it, as if you can order just one. Why do they think we have fifteen of the same damn scarf?! We have to buy at least a dozen, one of each color, in order to get the three colors we do want.
The most maddening request however is the persons, and this is frequent, who wish me to remove their price tags. Now it wouldn't be so irritating but they wait until I have their things all wrapped up in tissue and bagged, then they say, "Did you take the price tags off of that?! I wanted to give it as a gift." Why should I remove their price tags for them?! Have they been struck with a sudden malaise that makes them powerless to remove their own price tags?! Walmart doesn't remove price tags, so why should I?! But I am just tired and I am ranting and why should I complain? I am not stuck in recovery limbo, waiting for my body to heal. You would probably be much more patient and certainly more deft with your repartee. HOWL FOR ME WOULD YOU?!!! I must go and do it over again on Monday.

[Mia Wolff]

a friend wrote once that Death doesn't like to be laughed at and much prefers surprise at his wit...
well I'm all for the laugh, the wit and perhaps the surprise as we don't get to dance aside of that anyways--might as well mix and drink.

[Tatyana]

As this melancholy (or was it close to sardonic?) post have appeared a whole week ago, and nothing ever since, I started to worry.
Please update.

[American fez]

My apologies. I recently returned to work (see forthcoming post) hence my lack of input here

[Tatyana]

Excellent news, my precccious S

[red bottom]

Very, very nicely done!

[Xavi]

koduri vijayakumarafsar gaaru kuakoanndua ee interview chadivaanu monne voka email pampinchaanu..choosaroo ledoo nizame 1998 lo nenu hyderabad shift ayinappudu choosina saahithya vaathavaranam koodaa ippudu ledu..edainaa voka sabhalo kaastha janam vunnarante adi e vv gaari pusthakam leka shivareddy gaari pusthakam sabha ayi vuntene saadhyam .kaani hyderabad gurinchi . saahithya vaathavaranam gurinchi anthagaa niraasha padaalsindi kooda ledanukuntaa nenu naa anubhavame chebuthaanu.. ippatikee shivareddy dwaarka friends, darbhashayanam, khadeer, akbar geetha mari kontha mandimi frequent gaa kalusthune vuntaamu Interviewer emi adigaadu anedi pakkana pedithe, mee gurinchina visheshaalu ee vidhangaa thelusukovadam santhoshangaa vundiRaaboye rojullonainaa meeru mee chinnappati sangathulni aathmakatha maadirigaa' raasthe (mukhyangaa mee naanna gaaritho meeru gadipina rojulni gurinchi) chaala baguntundani anukuntunnaKODURI VIJAYAKUMAR

[Anthony]

The Executive, a super-hero who travels through time to save babes from the worlds most despicable villains, finds his latest adversary in the form of a Ninjataur, a half Ninja/half Minotaur creature from Hades.