it is hard to write under the influence of general anesthesia, even when it is wearing off. So I asked axel to make the entry for today.
(Context: Sylvia had an adequate but not entrancing post-op meal and Axel brought in sushi from around the corner) Sushi dinner and room service. Only sake missing.
While Axel had his MRI I was checked in. Here in Dubai, out-patient procedures are in-patient procedures and I too got to spend the night in the hospital. Right now I’m too tired even to dictate and Axel will continue the saga.
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It was another day of medical tourism in Dubai. I really much more enjoyed the regular style of tourism that we had with Chuck and Anzie. I wish that fun flow of discovering the corners of Dubai hadn’t been so interrupted with the restoration of our bodies as there is evidently much more to see and do here and many more interesting people to meet. For instance my shoulder doctor is going to spend the week of Eid in the desert, near the Empty Quarter, a state of being rather than a place. It’s the Arabian version of the wild open spaces, but there are no deer or antelope playing there, only stars, silence and brilliant sun. Oh, and did I mention that it’s out of the intensity of Dubai?
But I’m getting ahead of the story of today, which really began with my MRI. That was a bizarre mix of a long explanation of how deeply troubled Lebanon was with the political and legal issues surrounding the investigation of Hariri’s assassination and Kings of Leon blaring away while the MRI hammered it’s own tune.
Sylvia’s two-fer operation on knee and carpal tunnel got underway later than expected, but hey, it’s a busy hospital with lot’s of patients as is evidenced by the very busy lobby, part of the pattern language of a very alive place. While she was in the operating theater, I struggled with getting my Mac’s health back with a new CD/DVD drive, another victim of the Kabul dust bowl climate. When she emerged at 3 PM Sylvia was doubly out of it with both local and general anesthesia.
At 4 PM, I went to see my doctor who opined that I needed a rotator cuff operation. I must admit I was rather surprised having thought that some therapy would do the trick as it had some time ago, but rather happy it wasn’t going to happen immediately. But I had to admit, on seeing the MRI pix, that another part had worn out and needed to be repaired. The doctor, who had seen a lot of hockey shoulders in Toronto, thought that the whole mess wasn’t so severely compromised as to be a short-term fix.
So tomorrow I retrieve Sylvia from the hospital and we’ll have a sort of recovery lunch before heading back to rest our bones for the next stage of the medical tour: physical therapy.
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