Home feels good after successful surgery by Bob Karolevitz Omaha (delayed) � Dang it! The cancer has come back.
It was discovered in a routine colonoscopy, and surgery was advised.
However, the doctor said we should go on the nostalgic trip to Washington, DC, and Boston as planned because the Big C was slow-moving so surgery would wait until our return.
�Go ahead; have fun,� he counseled, �and don�t think about what�s facing you when you get back.�
Of course, that�s easier said than done, but we went (as the last two columns attest), and now we�re bringing you up-to-date.
Dr. Lars Aanning, who did the first surgery six years ago, recommended that his professional friend � Dr. Jon Thompson � do the knife work at the U. of Nebraska Medical Center where there would be plenty of backup for the coronary condition which I had.
I agreed, obviously, and so the surgery was scheduled. But first there were lots of tests, including a CAT-Scan of my head.
Needless to say, they found nothing there (and that�s a joke, son).
The surgery was successful, thank goodness, but the aftermath had a few bleak moments.
The first was when I was filled with so many pain-killer drugs that I began to hallucinate. I guess I talked with people who weren�t there � but Phyllis says that�s not unusual with me.
Then there was the gawd-awful hospital food. Of course, I had been on a liquid diet for five or six days, so they couldn�t make a bowlful of bouillon look good no matter how they tried.
Besides that, I�ll never be able to look a glob of yellow Jell-O in the face again.!
Incidentally, Phyllis has been with me all the way. After the first night in her brother�s motor home, she moved across the street to the Nebraska House so she could be nearer to me.
The Nebraska House is really an upscale hotel in the Lied Transplant Center which is connected to the hospital. However, she didn�t have time to enjoy her fancy room � with its two television sets, two VCRs and other accoutrements � because she was so busy coming to see me.
I can�t finish this column without telling you about a bit of coincidental hilarity which happened one night when we needed it most.
On my room�s bulletin board � under Bob � there appeared a nurse by the name of Hope.
Aha, Bob Hope, I thought. Nothing could go wrong with symbolism like that!
At long last, they finally let me go. And it�s good to be home again where you are more than a mere number. Believe me, bigger isn�t always better!
I won�t be playing hop-scotch for the next few days, but now that the staples have been removed from my incision, you can expect a more normal column again next week.
Unfortunately, though, unless some form of miracle takes place, there�ll be no Bob Hope line to lighten the load.
� 2004 Robert F. Karolevitz