Okay - so I said I was going into radio silence until the surgery. But I figured out something very handy - when you have control of the Blog password, you can put yourself back into circulation whenever you want to.
I figured that a bit of diversion and relaxation could not hurt so we spent Memorial Day Weekend with our dear and beloved friends the Pincuses. Lil and Bob are probably the closest friendship we have that resemble mishpucha (for the non speakers out there, that's family). We have shared the joys of our children growing up, the near identical birthdays of our youngests, the ups, downs, tragic moments and gloriously wonderful moments, as well. And, did I mention that for our money, the most delightful home in the village of East Hampton. We have been invited out here regularly since 1981 (with Eileen and Lillian being very pregnant with who turned out to be Lauren, Lauren and Joanna). So as I sit here upon their wonderful front porch, perched (porched??) in this idyllic east end tranquil setting, I bemuse myself with images of the great 19th century novelists impeccably describing their English countryside weekends.
Well, we haven't had a hunt yet, the picnic in the gazebo attended by footmen and lady's maids has been called off due to possible inclement weather, and no one really wants to play croquet this afternoon. And as the church on the corner of the Montauk Highway and Davids Lane chimes out four o'clock, I sit here prepared to ruminate about what has worked in keeping me sane and what I am prepared to look forward to.
You have to have had the privilege of playing a round of golf with me to understand that relaxing and playing golf are not necessarily terms that are compatible in the same sentence. But Bob and I did play a round on Friday at Montauk Downs which except for my long game, was a very enjoyable way to spend a day. I have been determined to keep myself very occupied (which I have also learned can be inclusive of just sitting and reading) and doing my best to focus on the here and not the events of two weeks hence. The Metropolitan Golf Association can let all of their members know that there were no handicap records set and Titleist can be comforted that we will be keeping the sale of new balls at a brisk pace.
Bike riding along the shoreline on the east end of Long Island was just what the doctor ordered. First of all I was able to prove to myself that my balance has not been significantly affected by the neuroma. Second, it was just a perfect day for the ride and just take in the beaches, the local flora and fauna, and check out the driveways and "back forty' of the rich and famous. Unfortunately not one lemonade stand was in sight. I guess all of the kids were packing up for Wharton.
You know, we go through life and try to avoid all of the supposed cliches - the clever ones like 'stop and smell the roses'. It has occurred to me over the last two months that we do need to slow down every so often and take in what life has given us. That's it for the deep philosophical stuff for now.
The weekend in the Hamptons proved to be a great diversion for "T minus 14 and counting". As it turned out, the already shortened week turned into an even shorter work week as Friday was pre-op testing day at NYU. Being a surgical naif, the processing routine is a very insightful observation on how easy it is for human behavior to become institutionalized - even robotic. Maybe I am more than sensitive to this I always feel our business practice needs to always remember that in order to create a trusting, comfortable and effective client relationship, each of our clients needs to believe that nothing is more important than who they are at that moment in time. And as importantly, no matter how routine the task may be, personalizing it is critical to why our clients want to do business with us.
Perhaps it is who I am , but as soon as I sense that service related folks are being a bit too droll, I try to use humor to break the rarefied air in the room. I mean, I know it's a job to them, but it's a cranium to me. So I set out on my day with the intent of at least trying to make it as minimally institutionalized as possible. I must say that for the most part, every doctor, nurse, nurse practitioner and phlebotomist I met with was professional, knowledgeable and intent on doing their job well. A few started a bit too intense for my liking and I did my earnest best to make our session a personalized one, not an institutionalized one. It is so easy to see how quickly your needs can become subservient to the process.
Having left more bodily fluids behind than I left with, I was given the okay for the surgery with flying colors. An important to word to the wise - I chose to donate a unit of my own blood to be kept on hand just in case I require a transfusion during or after the surgery. While I have been more than assured that there will not be a need for the extra blood at all, (99% assurance), I truly felt that better to know what your getting than not. And to prove that the warmth and generosity of family and friends never stop to surprise and warm the heart, Joanna, who is type O positive, as is our long time friend Dick Hecht, both stepped forward, unsolicitedly, to offer to donate blood on my behalf. The offer from both really moved me and struck me deeply on how selfless they both truly are. In any regard, I recommend that anyone who is scheduled for major surgery think of either self-donation pre-surgically or seek out donors that are willing to be helpful. Even with all of the testing technology in place to day, it just seems to me having one less thing to worry about is a good thing.
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