Think I'll take up cigarettes.
Despite the glowing 'scope report, I'm still sporting a pretty impressive bandage. The original not-ass-cancer needed to be excised, and thanks to my man, it's gone, gone, gone.
I do reserve a special ring of Jingo Hell for the Jonas Salk who came up with the bright idea of cleansing the bowel for scoping, which essentially consists of artificially inducing the symptoms of dysentery for 18 tormented hours. Among the several things that I'm desperately short of right now, electrolytes and sleep number prominently.
Thanks to everybody for your sympathetic and funny words. I'm humbled by your kindness.
For the convalescence, I've rented some flicks that I missed in the theaters:
- Downfall, starring Hugo Ganz. Desperation in the Führerbunker. Got raves, all kinds of honors. So of course I missed it.
- Donnie Darko, the Director's Cut. Nope. Never seen it. Something about a guy and a big rabbit. The anti-Harvey. We'll see.
- The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. The tufty-chinned dork at Blockbuster told me this was the worst film he'd seen this year. I asked him to recommend a better one. He came up with Monsters-in-Law. Ah. Thanks. I'll stick with this one, I think.
- The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Yeah, I razzed it sight unseen. And I was probably right. During the Long Dark Teatime of Scope Prep, while I sweated and strained with junkie-cramps and shaking sweats, the tome that kept me sane was The Restaurant at the End of the Universe. Cover to cover. I'll give the damned movie a chance.