After getting back from my Weekend Retreat, I spent most of the afternoon
As evening approached, we went off to a shiva minyan - a condolence call, Jewish-style - at Gravel-Voice Larry’s house. There must have been at least fifty people packed into Larry’s condo, not counting the passel of grandkids lurking downstairs. Plenty, in other words, to ensure the requisite quorum of ten Jewish men for a full evening service. [Larry's older son is even more of a traditionalist than Larry, who would’ve counted women as part of the minyan.]
The Gravelly One would have been pleased at the huge turnout. Alas...
After the service, we stood around and visited for a few minutes (“stand” is correct: it was, literally, standing room only) before heading off for a Mexican dinner to celebrate our friend Laura Belle’s birthday. Except for the business of getting in and out of the car, I wasn’t experiencing any significant discomfort. Maybe all of those happy pills were working their magic.
After returning from the restaurant, I gulped down a little more Strong Medicine and a whole lotta watta. Adding a shot or two of pomegranate juice made it a little more palatable.
My sleep was intermittent. I had to stay off my back to avoid snoring (and the inevitable poke in the ribs from SWMBO), but there was no way I could lie on my right side. So left side it was, with any changes in position rewarded by the old Ice-Pick Sensation.
And yet, this morning, after a nice, long piss, I felt fine. No aches or pains to speak of. Respite, albeit temporary, from the Ice-Pick.
And so, therefore, I will take my chances and go to Houston this evening.
And I will return Tuesday evening.
And first thing Wednesday, I will hie myself over to the urologist, who will run me through the CAT scan machine to see what all the fuss was about.
And now, I am off to drink yet another huge glass of water. Listen! Listen! Elisson’s pissin’!