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The Hospitalist, Surgery and Bourbon

17 August 2020

I talked with Joyce around noon today while she was sitting in a chair waiting for her hair to dry. "They don't have any hair dryers here," she said.

She spent the morning meeting doctors, she added. Four of them.

What kind of doctors, I asked her. But she didn't know. She's been a bit confused with all the anesthesia. But they did giver her their business cards so she found one.

"Alison Cooke," she said.

I looked her up while we were talking. "She's a hospitalist," I said.

"A what?"

"A hospitalist."

"What's that?"

"I don't know. Her page says, 'As your physician, I will work hard to make you feel safe, comfortable, and well-informed during your hospital admission.' Kind of an advocate, I guess."

"She said she'd bring some books."

"Yeah, it says she likes to read. Good books, though."

"I liked her."

"Canadian. University of Toronto."

SURGERY

Then she was interrupted by the house phone. Details about her add-on surgery tomorrow.

They've been adding people to the queue, they told her, so it won't be early. When they add people, she gets bounced back.

That's what "add-on" means. Back of the line.

Dr. Tong usually calls after the surgery so send me your questions for her and I'll get some answers.

BOURBON

After I mentioned Mike Kloess's recommendation for bourbon's healing powers, Annette emailed this illustration of The Power of Bourbon, which I just can't keep to myself:

It just so happens that I was dancing with one of these umbrellas at 3 a.m. the other just as the electrical storm was starting. I thought it would be a good idea to get it inside, out of the rain.

The umbrella was wind-aided but I was bourbon-free as we took a spin around the patio under the strobe lights of the lightning.

Hope no one saw us. That umbrella dances better than me.