@la93 Because surgery can be a scary adventure in life, my belief systems shaped through life convince me that when my time is up, it’s up. I shall live with no regrets. To that end, a few humorous notes:
At Mayo Rochester, the hospital where the surgery is done and recovery is a massive complex about a mile west of the clinic. Surgery is in the southeast lower corner. My bed was in an upper floor to the northwest. As they wheeled me off to surgery my wife waved and said “I’ll see you on the other side.” The nurse and aid did a double take and assured my wife I would be alright, and would not be crossing over to the other side.
#2. As I filled out the online pre surgery forms, one question asked how I would like to be addressed, meaning nicknames or reverend or major, etc. Thinking things could go sideways and this may be my last life experience, how would I like to be addressed? Your Majesty for my last days would be a great way to be addressed, as long as you are asking and giving me a choice here. “Your Majesty” is what I put down on the form. I had lots of visitors post surgery, curious as they were. A bit of a laugh for an otherwise dreary bed time. And the HRH moniker still survives to this day.
#3 I had a second surgery to open the pegs for a teeth prosthetic as well as closing a stubborn trachea that never fully healed. I was to be put under once again. As the wonderful anesthesiologist asked me to count backwards from 100 (it really should be from just 10) I looked at her and asked “Can I get you anything while I’m out?” I drifted off to a room full of laughter.
Courage.