Wednesday, June 8, 2011

The Time Machine.

Tomorrow is my operation and it reminds me, until this prostate business, I haden't been in a hospital for fifty years. (Not counting visiting, of course). So tomorrow, I put on the dressing gown and my plastic booties. Then I walk to the operating room, which I find kind of weird. Then they give me a little stool, and I climb up on the operating table. Also weird. They have an oven in there where they warm up blankets, so they cover me with a warm blanket until everything is ready. (Not weird, cozy).

So everything is going great. We are having a nice conversation, then Zap! I'm in the future, a different room and a different time. A Time Machine, that's what it is. When you wake up, you don't know how far into the future you've come. Hopefully only a few hours. So, if anyone ever asks me, "Have you ever done time travel?" I can in all honesty say "yes."

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