Funny Guy Friday... Did you know I almost died?...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     As you might recall, I went under the knife last week.
     Well, not exactly under the knife, but I had a colonoscopy, and I am pretty sure they use a fairly sharp tube for that.
     Since I know that you were all wondering, I am clean as a whistle. Don't need to repeat that procedure for another ten years.
     But that doesn't mean that it all went well... I almost died!
     Not really died, as in dead and no longer living. More like during the pre-operative disclosure, the doctor mentioned that death was a possibility as a result of the anaesthesia.
     Isn't it always the anaesthesia that gets you?
     It wasn't really a big percentage of a chance... somewhere in the neighborhood of less than one-half percent. But death at a half percent is the same as death at a hundred percent. Now I am pretty certain I would have opted out of any procedure that resulted in 100% death, but I could live with the less than half percent.
     Now, having said that, apparently it was touch and go for a while. The very nice asian doctor sent me to "La La Land," but I did not snap back as quickly as everyone had expected.
     This is the best part: in recovery, Cheryl was by my side and was very concerned. Apparently, the anesthesiologist kept walking over with his clipboard, shouting "Wakey wakey!"... telling Cheryl that "He not need much!"
     Afterward, I joked about it, but she was visibly shaken by the whole experience. She added that when the doctor kept coming over to check on me, he was shaking me, monitoring my heart rate, and I was just lying there doing nothing.
     I am sure this is all pretty routine, but Cheryl was very concerned.
     In a weird way, knowing that Cheryl would be sad if I die makes me kind of happy!
     I only have two requests of Cheryl should I go first... Wear black every day for the rest of her life... and be sad! I don't think that I am asking too much of her.    
     I doubt she will wear black for the rest of her life, but at least now I know she will be sad!
    As she was recounting the story, she hugged me and as she walked away she stopped and turned and said...
    And another thing, what was that you were saying about breasts?
    What? 
    When you finally came out of the anesthesia, you said something like, "I like breasts."
    Were we talking about chicken?
    No. I think I may have been asking you if you had a nice rest.
    Did anybody else hear my declaration of love? 
    No, but you also accused the nurse of trying to look up your skirt! 
    You mean my hospital gown? 
    Well, you said skirt.
    Was she?... because I think she kind of liked me.
    No. 
    
     It could be that Cheryl wasn't really sad, but concerned about who would take care of all the stuff that I do around the house. For instance, if I am not here, who is going to change the toilet paper rolls? As it stands now, I think I am the only one in the family that knows how to work the roll holder.
     Who will take out the trash and remember that Thursday is trash day? It used to be Monday and Thursday but they changed that.
     Who will drive Noah to the grocery store and shop with him?
     Who will pay for dinner? Although, I don't think that Cheryl will be hurting for money. I have my  my own life insurance policies and a decent enough one through work, so if I go, Cheryl will be rolling in the cash. A few years ago, I was advising Cheryl of the policies and the amounts, when Grace overheard:
     So if you die, Mom is a millionaire?
     Yep, I guess so.
     That's awesome!
     You do know that the prerequisite for her getting the money is that I am dead and gone!
     Sure, but that is a lot of money. 
     Sweetie, if Mom the millionaire gets remarried and she and her lousy rotten no good gold digging new husband spend all the money, or worse, she puts his name on all the cash and she goes before he does, you get zero. My being alive and preventing Mom from getting remarried is the only thing that is keeping you from being homeless!  
     Then in my best Jack Nicholson voice, I continued... You need me in this house... You want me in this house!
     Grace saw the need for me to stick around. The boys, however, are a different story; they would be content with a new dad. We were watching the home run hitting contest the other night, and Noah asked how he could become one of the kids who runs around the field and gets the players Gatorade and a towel.
     Well, from looking at the backs of those boys' jerseys, you would have to be a son of one of the contestants. 
     How come you didn't play baseball?
     I did play baseball.
     Not good enough. You weren't good enough to be a major leaguer! 
     This is true.
     I wish you could have been a major leaguer. That would have been cool!
     Me too. By the way, have I told you that I almost died during my colonoscopy the other day? 
     Hey, do you think mom could marry a big leaguer if something happens to you? 

     Of course, I am joking about my wanting Cheryl to be sad.
     The way I see it is that I live my life a certain way with the belief that there is something better after this world. I believe in Heaven, just as I believe in Hell. My real hope is that Cheryl celebrates my life with the knowledge that I tried to do things right and as a reward for those efforts, am in a far better place. Although, just to be clear, I want her doing that celebration dressed in black for the rest of her life.
     So, until my time is up on this earth, I've got a beautiful wife that loves and cares about me. Three great kids and a clean colon... who could ask for anything more?