I'd like to think I'm a typical guy, afraid of doctors and hospitals. That's why I avoid them like Kale. The only good memory I have was of going to get my tonsils out when I was five years old. It's a good memory because the only thing I remember is all of the ice cream during recovery time. This "procedure" that I'm about to have is little more complicated. I've been told that they "will put me out" beforehand. I've never cared for the saying "put me out." Oh sure, they think they have "put me out," but what if something inside is still awake and wants to scream in horrible pain? My wife, who is a nurse, said I will be fine. Easy for her say while I'm laying strapped to a gurney in a cold room half naked and she sits in the waiting room reading a Popular Mechanics magazine from 1973 and listening to an elevator muzak version of AC/DC Highway to Hell!

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