I'm no longer a hospital virgin, having undergone my first real procedure in a hospital since i was born.  I did have two stitches to close a cut on my forehead that i sustained from diving head first into a metal bed frame when i was two years old (back in the days when bed springs meant something).  i walked into the OR, a bit disappointed because everyone else in the prep area had been wheeled in.  "Have I missed the Party?", was the best I could come up with.  Just a bunch of bright eyed hospital gowned guys and gals hanging around a very cold room.   a couple of introductions.  i was trying to be as hip at this cocktail at this party as i could be, striking a nice balance between interested, not too gushy, one of them, please don't hurt my feelings or my body.  I hopped up on the table, to some hoo-hawing fanfare that they have to help everyone else up.  I guess any show of enthusiasm for their work is lauded.  They wrapped me with a warm blanket.  i said something about "better than a spa".  This mistress of potions and her resident helper who was way too handsome to be an Igor, smacked my hand for a vein to pop, and put an IV in, an oxygen mask over my face.  I told Dr Yudin to not fuck it up, chortle chortle, my knees went weak like the best drink in the world, wait for the burning, here comes all the burning down my vein highways like i'm strung up for lethal injection, oh fuck,

an annoying fly of a woman keeps coming in and out on me.  is she talking to me.  shutup.  oh i feel sick.  i'm slurring my words.  my eyes won't open.  i'm going to puke.  oh i'm really sick.  she's going to throw up, quick, she's going to throw up. blech.  what did i have in my stomach?  yudin talking. moving, being wheeled.  look over, there's clive, warm and golden brown and plump full of life in this gaudy hard light.  ice chips. i forgot they were there. dressing my body, slow and thick.  more wheeling.  clive driving with a fan blowing hot air.  open the window. get a breeze.  looking over at me, and racing up to stopped vehicles the words can't get out of me fast enough so i hit him. brake.

i'm going to throw up. home.  edgar big and strong, moving around too fast for me to catch him. i take his place on the couch.  nina comes, bringing food.  one forkful and i lie back. still can't keep my eyes open.  water.  i'm going to be sick.  phone ringing.  bed. go to bed.  edgar follows, lies close.  gone, dreaming about about highly painted cruise ships speeding through rice paddies at night.

and then i woke up.