That Guy Again

On today's pre-op appointment with Mayfield:

How long are these things, usually? 20 minutes? 30 minutes? We were there for an hour and a half with Mayfield, chatting about all manner of things. Many of them medical, of course. But some of them completely irrelevant to the coming surgery.

Like his dogs. Turns out he has always been an akita man. I told him my akita story, you know, the one where my brother's dog tried to kill me.

I asked him one pressing question, and he says he'll have an answer for me soon: How often does a person come to Evans Community Hospital for one reason, then twist or break her ankle on the piles of rocks dividing out the parking lot sections because no one is actually going to walk all the way down an aisle instead of cutting across the lot to get directly to the door, and need, say, ankle surgery?

I'll be certain to tell you all whatever Mayfield learns from his colleagues about this.

Speaking of follow-up, do you remember Yolanda? She was the quasi-willing participant as proxy in the Name Game. She left a note on Mayfield's desk that read, "I have to leave at 11 today, but please tell Amy Ponce I say 'Hello.'"

The whole dang bunch of them are just so super! I took the note and plan to put it in my scrapbook.

We're counting down to the Big Day on Thursday. There is a lot of sadness in this. Tears come out of the blue, often at inopportune times. The pressure this time is almost as great as it was for the first surgery.

But knowing that God has chosen Mayfield to do the job for us is an immeasurable comfort. We're going to march forward, and get through this, and one day count it as pure joy.