Friday 10/19/07

Greetings friends and relatives. Here's this week's offering; enjoy.

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Some weeks ago, my physician suggested that I undergo a certain uncomfortable procedure.

It's the one where they blow you up like a balloon then insert a mini-cam and take your picture from the inside out.

On the face of it, this idea seemed odd, since my complaint to the doctor was that my abdomen feels swollen. So putting even more gaseous compound in there seemed just wrong.

Also involved is a surgical instrument. It's a stainless steel loop with which the operator can remove polyps.

When I found out about the little hangman's noose, I became even more reticent. Well, worse than reticent. I became stubborn.

In order to assuage my "fears," my physician asked me to telephone a certain spokesperson in the hospital department where the procedure would be carried out.

The woman who called me back was very mannerly, competent in the terminology, and self-assured. She knew it was her job to persuade a certain skeptic to accept the doctor's recommendation.

She described the sanitary conditions used during the procedure, explained how the "camera" would work, gave me a gambler's odds on internal damage possibilities, and described the health benefits should any polyps be removed.

This particular health care professional was very good at her job. But guess where she lost me.

"You'll be given a sedative, and you won't feel pain. In fact, you won't remember any of the procedure."

I said, "I'm outta here."

She said, "Don't worry, Mr. Hodge, you needn't be afraid of the pain."

If she had only known me better, she'd know I'm not afraid of a little pain.

I do have a certain fear of memory loss. In fact, I am insanely jealous of my memory. If I ended up with a perforated colon during all this, I wouldn't remember the name of the guy who did it. Now THAT scares me.

The doctor who was urging me to have this procedure done, well, she suddenly left town. The fellow who eventually replaced her hasn't yet suggested colonoscopy, and I (for once) am keeping quiet.

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So we're driving down the road listening to the radio. On comes an ad for a new dentist in the valley. He uses sedation.

His radio ad brags, "You won't feel a thing -- in fact you won't remember a thing."

To me, that is not a positive factor. I am a frequent visitor to my dentist's office, and I enjoy every minute of it. I treasure my memories of visits to the dentist.

Well, not everything. Their elevator music is kind of sappy. But at least, I can remember the last time I heard "Kenny Rogers' Greatest Hits."

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One of my beloved family members suggested last week that I send him a "truncated" version of my weekly offering. I hate to tell you, young man, but this IS the truncated version.

I don't spend all week padding it up. I spend all week cutting it down. So there. (But I am proud I have a family member who knows how to use the word "truncated." Right Arm ! ! !)

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I forgot what we were celebrating, but a few days ago Laura and I decided to go out to a well-known steakhouse here in town. To celebrate.

Ah, the wonderful mixed aromas of beer and searing beef greeted us as we entered. Inside, it was dimly lighted, as is our preference, and the other diners were fairly quiet and self-contained.

This is going to be a very memorable celebration, I thought. As we were led to our table, I had visions of grilled halibut, prime rib, perhaps a ribeye, a shrimp cocktail to start, stuffed mushrooms on the side. I can hardly wait.

The pert hostess brought us to a booth near the salad bar, and we took our seats.

Wham. I sank so low in the worn-out booth seat that my chin was almost level with the tabletop.

I was disappointed, but we went ahead and ordered. Laura opted for the halibut. I chose prime rib.

The food was superior. The service was outstanding. The salad bar was well-stocked, and the soup was quite good.

But the seating was so very uncomfortable that it detracted mightily from our celebration.

So next time we're in need of a celebration meal, we'll telephone "The Cattlemen's Steak House and Saloon" before we go. We'll ask, "Hey. Did you do anything yet about your Cuisine Seating?"

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I think I got this right. I heard through Laura that the Denver ballteam is going to the World Series. Well it's high time, I say. Yay Avalanche ! ! ! I hope you win ! ! !

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Word of the week: Quasi. It's an adverb, from the Latin (surprise surprise) meaning "as if, as it were, just as." In English it means "in a sense or manner," or "seemingly."

So when you see your local government having a "quasi-judicial" meeting, keep in mind it's only "seemingly" official. Really what they're doing is keeping some kind of secret.

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Next week's word: Subordinate

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