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Wish Me Luck


bitflipper

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I'm off to the hospital in a few minutes for surgery. Nothing major, just a double angioplasty. In and out. Hardly anybody dies from it.

I am so happy. The main arteries in my legs have collapsed, resulting in insufficient oxygen to the muscles and absolutely butt-clenching pain when I walk. The surgeon described it as "a heart attack in the legs". I've been enduring this excruciating agony since last December, when it abruptly began - at a gig, of course. So today is a big day.

This has been the main reason the band has only been gigging sporadically this summer. I feel bad making the other band members lug my stuff for me. In my next life, I'm taking up the piccolo.

Looking forward to good drugs and an excuse to do nothing tomorrow. Band rehearsal still scheduled for Sunday. Band rehearsals are so much fun, I'm not gonna miss out on that.

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I used to work for the company that made the stents. Well, supplied would be more accurate, they were actually made in Switzerland and we just shipped them. When old hospital stock was returned due to the sterility date having expired they basically put a new sticker with a new date sometimes on top of the old one if it didn't want to peel off without damaging the expensive packaging and sent them back out to someone else. Hopefully they gave you a couple that didn't have too many stickers. As part of the job training I had to attend a few ops and found it interesting although the safety gear required just to watch the procedure did give some cause for concern as to exactly how much radiation was present in the room and I had to go out in the dark a few times afterwards to reassure myself that I wasn't glowing.

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Unfortunately, when they went in they discovered that the damage to the artery was too great for the old balloon + stent cure. It will require bypass surgery.

I am such a hopeless optimist. Been so excited for this procedure since it was scheduled months ago, imagining instant relief from the pain. Instead, the old pain remains and I now that the opiates have worn off, I realize I have new pains from the two holes they punched into my crotch, plus a $220 copay as frosting on the cake.

My bandmates have been supportive and sympathetic, asking if there's anything I need. My answer to each of them: I need to make some music. We're still on for rehearsal on Sunday. It's always the highlight of my week. We might not be able to gig much, but we all genuinely enjoy playing together. And with all this practice, when we do eventually get back out there, at least we're gonna be frickin' tight

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