I'm up and about, using Parker's post-shooting hospital escape in Flashfire as my timetable. I should kill Melander, Carlson and Ross with the gun stashed under the kitchen table by tomorrow morning if I want to keep on schedule.
As much as it hurts, it's better than having to go to the global R&D video conference tomorrow. I realize now...I have all these paired organs, and giving up one here and there to get out of a meeting is a bit of brilliant strategizing that might not occur to lesser minds.
Okay, I wrote all that on Tuesday. It just didn't get posted (don't ask). Today is Thursday. I burned through Richard Stark's The Seventh and The Rare Coin Score Tuesday afternoon. Rare Coin was the best Stark yet - I'm shocked it wasn't reprinted until last year. Seventh was great, too, but Rare Coin was a supernova of awesomeness. Unfortunately, that left me little to do on Wed., which was something of a bad day. Went for too long of a walk, so I was worn out the rest of the day, with little to read. I saw Diane last night, with Riley in tow. Riley asked "What's up with your pants?" My Thai fisherman pants. I asked what she meant, and she said "they're like God's pants." I think that's pretty good, actually.
My mom played the insanity card a few times during my morning in the hospital. For starters, she tried to tell me the surgeon had told her that my appendix ruptured, and that I needed several days of bed rest. So, some of you may have heard it burst, since that was the story I got in the morning. But, no, it was merely inflamed (still, you have to remove it - an appendix doesn't get "better" and if it gets worse, it can kill ya), so less serious. When I talked to the surgeon, he'd said mom told him "we'll he's definitely coming home to stay with us for a few days." :D When visiting, my mom stood in the middle of the room at one point, trying to convince the nurse, and the guy in the bed next to me that the surgeon MUST have said my appendix burst - why else would she be saying it burst unless someone had TOLD her that? Uncomfortable. Everybody just let it go, and she wound down eventually.
The other bit of crazy was when a lay chaplain visited, and instead of letting her come in, do her spiel, and leave, my mom made a huge deal about my being an atheist. Mom had a craziness assist from the lay chaplain, who took all that as her cue to stand at the foot of my bed and try a staring contest. I said "ok, thanks," and variations thereof a few times, but mom kept it going on talking about damnation, and the power of prayer, and how "we sent him to college, and this is how it turned out!" Remember, the College Marxists? Anyway, I figured it was easier to just let it go, let them wear themselves out, but she was still doing her staring contest attempt every time I looked over. It came to within a second of my buzzing for a nurse to get ALL the fuckheads out of my room, stat.
So, mom is getting worse. She also chewed me out for giving her the wrong room number, but when I talked to her on the phone that night, she saw she had written down the correct one back when I gave it to her that morning. This is a concern - if I'm in a hospital again, say unconscious with some heavy injuries, I have to make sure she doesn't get to make any major medical decisions. "Oh, definitely cut off both his legs, doctor! I'll take care of him! I'm his mother forever." Horror movie stuff.