When You Get Out Of the Hospital

... please let me back into your life. Sang the slightly neurotic Jonathan Richman back in about 1972. He sure was weird back then. What's the quote? Looked like Dustin Hoffman, moved like Mick Jagger.

So I got out of Cedars-Sinai this afternoon, a release delayed by several hours due to my inability to produce a sterile bodily fluid. Comically, I had the contents of my bladder analyzed by several nurses, who determined, using a ultrasonic bladder scanner, that after drinking 3 cartons of juice, a glass of water and a grande Starbucks cappuccino, that I had literally nothing in the old internal bota bag. So I proceeded to guzzle a bunch of cranberry juice, apple juice, all your well-known diuretics. I go back to the room, nothing! And then of course, the orderly tells me that with any juice, no matter how diuretical it is, your kidneys have to process away all the solids. Which was his way of saying, "Why didn't you just drink some water?" He was right, of course.

With that out of the way, I had a couple of visitors. More on that later.

Quick question: why didn't my dog catch this? No biscuits for you, Kelly!

Yes, I am blogging high. I've had 6 Darvies, and plan to Vike it up bigtime tomorrow. I was fine until I went to bed tonight, and then boom. Everything in the manner of pain medication wore off at the same time. Ocho Cinco, indeed.

So of course, I can't sleep. Does anything need filing?