Got a call from my cousin, who had this operation over a year ago. They did a quick pathology while he was still under and he groggily remembers the doctor giving him the good news as he was climbing back up into the world. Then I got a call from the urology department. The doctor hasn't called because they have yet to receive the report. I will call again to say I need to talk with the doctor with or without a report. Spending the four day holiday weekend wondering if they're preparing to break the bad news is not my idea of a four day holiday weekend.
Later. No news from the doctor. For some reason I'm comfortable with just letting it slide. The reality is it's one way or the other and my guess is I'm OK. And it's Thanksgiving. And I'm in a good mood with two Hungry Man Swanson TV Turkey dinners, a nice salad put together by MSA and dropped off this noon by the remarkable blond bombshells MSJ and MSK, a container of Häagen-Dazs Coffee ice cream bought and brought by MSL, all these in the refrigerator, and a package of Pampers new baby diapers. (Hrumpf!) which reside in my closet, unexamined. They're to get me from the doctor's office home when they remove the catheter. These concepts must be introduced slowly, you understand, or the mind will fry.
Still the same aches and pains, but the medicines are good, the weather is nice and I don't quite yet believe we've gone to war with Iraq. Perspective, my son, remember what's important and give thanks.