Tuesday, as in a week from today, I go to NYC to have a little consultation with my surgeon. He's gonna take a look at my films (actually, CD... yay, Christiana lervs their new PACS) and lab reports which were taken in the ER. If we can come to a reasonable agreement re: insurance (he said he'd be flexible since I'm an old patient of his), I will get chopped the next morning... Wednesday, the 29th. Weill Medical Center of Cornell University at NY Presbyterian Hospital, NYC. I figure I'll be in the hospital for a day or two after that, and then I'll be hangin' at the 'rents' in north Jersey for a few.
If the cash situation seems too outrageous (which I'm doubting... called my insurance company and my out-of-network coverage is pretty righteous), then I'll at least have his expert opinion on the path forward, and I can get his recommendations of some other docs who know what's what.
I'm actually pretty psyched about this, if you can believe it. I know I'm in the very best hands, I don't mind hospitals, the human body (even when it malfunctions) fascinates me on the grandest scale, and wheee-- I get to see my own innards on CD! How cool is that?
I wonder if he'd save me some gall stones so I could make a necklace.
So what does this mean for me, really? TONIGHT I EAT AMISH BACON! It could be the last time I get to enjoy it for a while.
So! If you're not doing anything around 6:30, come over to work out. Post-workout, come back to my place to taste test the smoked bacon versus the peppered bacon. We are also making challah-bread french toast. Holllllah for challah!
[EDIT: Tonight's bacon night has been cancelled. We're shooting for this Thursday night, if anyone's up for it then.]
And don't worry... if I croak during my surgery, the remaining bacon will be doled out appropriately. (Fear not... I take care of the details, yo.)