My dad had his coronary arteries manipulated, fabricated and fiddled with, and he came out of surgery a sea creature.
They just don't tell you these things.
"I've just been flayed like a salmon."
"Cut me some slack, guys, I was pryed open like a clam."
Clam Salmon Hank.
And he was - split from stem to stern.
Who knew there was so much sea in the operating room.
The ventilator rises and falls, it's tidelike, and the suction circuit shoots out blood in waves, but that's all.
He is making raspberry jello. I am ripping bits of music from the ether and emptying the dishwasher. We walked in the rain to Yoshi's Sushi and Noodle. We discovered Yoshi's Sushi and Noodle is no more. Today his doctor mentioned Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner when we were talking about opiates. Sometimes he is tired and weak and vulnerable like a fish belly; but then he's talking about boats, wanting to eat barbecue, or oranges and quoting Omar, over the stove: Surely do.
In the nighttime at the hospital, a grouper's head tried to have a conversation with him. Dad said he knew what was going on, but didn't panic because he knew it was all part of the game.
He saw the nursing station morph into a crusty mariner's bar. He said he watched the floor 'with a high index of suspicion', for the floor had become wave. I saw him ask a nurse what the current thought was on Tylenol with codeine versus a Panavision lens.
I was looking through some pictures. I'm putting up this one, since BB King looks like a fish. It came down the Mojo Wire into my dad's camera. Coincidence?
I didn't know what else to write about today. So I just wrote this.
