The Meatgrinders

Well, it is now official.

I am scheduled to submit myself to the meat processors to have my sausages worked on.

I have never done this kind of thing before and it seems a bit strange for a lifetime vegetarian like me to be messing around with sausages.

O.K. So most people put different labels on this. But really, what's in a label? So it sounds more civilized to call it a hospital instead of a meat processing plant. Don't they all deal with the same stuff?

I am supposed to go in the first of October so they can rearrange my innards that have apparently gotten too far disarranged and in the wrong places. I discovered about a week ago that I have a hernia and though I have heard rumors that there possibly might be some outside chance of curing it through some other means, I have decided this time to surrender to the medical system and our society's expectations about how to deal with such things and let them slice me open and have at it.

I really hope that while I am coming out of anesthesia that I don't reveal too many deep dark secrets that the nurses refuse to let me know about later. If I do I at least hope that I could hear about them myself so I could know what they are too. Other than that, I am supposed to be back home within 6-8 hours of when I arrive very early in the morning. My how times have changed. They don't even give you long extended periods of pampering in the hospital like they used to do.

So if any of you are so inclined (not sure there are any “you's” that might even read this), you can take this opportunity to indulge my weakened condition to feel terribly sorry for me and heap upon me all sorts of gifts, attentions and affections that I probably would never receive otherwise.

Well, I can try, can't I?