Prognostications

Have you ever heard of people that can predict the future?  Or for that matter animals that can predict the future?  I did a bit of research on the subject, which for me is painful at best because research is too much like work, but for you my loyal readers, I'll do it. 

Did you know that there is an octopus named Paul that predicts the outcome of the World Cup in soccer?  And me without a bookie to call...however, I thought about it and here's how that call might have gone. Ring, ring, ring, "Yea?"  "Yea, hi Joe?" (In case you were wondering, all bookies are named Joe.  No, I didn't do any research on that subject, just take my word for it.) "Yea, who's dis?"  "This is TK, and I want to place a bet on the World Cup games.  I got a great tip from Paul."  "Who's Paul?" "Um, Paul?  Well, he's an octopus.  Hello?  Hello?"  See?  Even if I wanted to place a bet based on the eight legged sea creature I wouldn't get too far, even with the unwavering morals of a bookie.

Cats have been known to predict the death of individuals - just another reason not to own a cat.  

A sheep in New Zealand correctly predicted the winner of the 2011 Rugby World Cup games.  And no, I did not call my bookie to place a bet on those games - I already learned my lesson from Paul.

A crocodile in Australia predicted their too-close-to-call 2010 election for Prime Minister...then ate the loser.  Can you say "there is no need for a recount"? Australian politics are tough!

And then of course there is the Prognosticator Extraordinaire, Punxsutawney Phil, the weather-predicting groundhog who, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration has been right less than 50% of the time.  Kind of sounds like a meteorologist or two around here.  Did you know that if you predict it is going to be sunny in Boston on any given day you have a 65% chance of being correct?  Another bit of useless dribble offered up by yours truly.

People that make predictions amaze me.  It goes from the aforementioned meteorologist  (which, I'll grant you, is the low risk end of the prediction spectrum) all the way up to the doomsday predictors.  If you believe these people, I have a bridge you may be interested in purchasing.  One thing is certain - if someone says the end of the world is on X day, rest assured that the world will be just fine, thank you, the day after.  There actually is One that knows that date, but He's not sharing.

The latest craze is the Mayan Calendar which, it is said, predicts that the world will end on December 21, 2012.  If I thought there was even a remote possibility of that I would save myself hundreds of dollars in Christmas gifts this year, but alas I hear the ca-ching of future cash registers up to December 24th...not that I am a last minute shopper or anything.  My wife is chiming in right now, but as the Beatles song says "your lips are moving, I cannot hear, your voice is soothing, but the words aren't clear".  Otherwise I would have written what she just said.

I have my own theories on why the Mayan Calendar ends on December 21st of this year. One is that they ran out of parchment to write the rest of the calendar on.  Or that their union went on strike because of the poor labor conditions they had to endure.  Whatever the reason, let me go on record to say we'll see you on December 22nd.  Yes, that is MY prediction.  So the next time you hear from the likes of Nostradamus, Kreskin, or even that rodent Punxsutawney Phil, take it with a grain of salt.  And then do what Joe did to me...hang up!

It Was All In My Head

My legal team has asked me to give you this brief disclaimer concerning this blog you are about to read: If you are squeamish about hospitals, going to the doctors, having operations, etc. you may not want to read any further...you have been warned.  Okay, now I know I have your undivided attention because reading this is like going by the scene of an accident - no one wants to look but everyone does!

Yesterday (Monday) I had an operation to remove a polyp or two from my sinuses.  All right, more like eight kazillion of them.  The abbreviated name of the procedure is Endoscopic Sinus Surgery.  And the only reason I agreed to have this done was so that I could write this blog about the experience.  See, I love my vast audience (hee hee hee) so much that I subjected myself to having this procedure and everything associated with it.  It had nothing to do with the fact that I could no longer breathe out of my nose and that I was quickly becoming a mouth-breathing neanderthal.  Also, as I write this, I am still somewhat under the effects of the anesthesia...it's okay though, because while the post-op directions said not to operate heavy machinery or drive until tomorrow they said nothing about writing a blog.  Of course they did mention not to make any major decisions, so as my own disclaimer I can always say I decided to write this blog while under, shall we say, a medicated state, so nothing I say can be taken seriously.  You're right, then that doesn't make this any different from any other blog I've written!

You may be amazed to know that this was not my first procedure, nor my second - try number five!  Apparently if there is one thing I do well in life it is grow polyps.  Now if I could only harness that power for good...but I digress.  When I first decided to get this done...again...I asked the doctor if he subscribed to the "Buy Four, Get One Free" deal, but alas he does not.  He did say something about needing a new 65 foot Sea Ray Yacht, but that was while I was going under the anesthesia, so I might have misunderstood him...it may have only been 56 feet.

The procedure is done through the nose, normally.  My father in law mentioned that in other countries they do the same procedure, but through a different, shall we say, route?  He implied that rather than a surgeon one would need a proctologist, at a much discounted rate.  No thanks,  Pop, I like my doctor, boat and all!

Friday I called to find out what time to be at the hospital, and they told me 11:00 AM on Monday.  When I asked why I couldn't get an earlier time they said that there were children being operated on first.  To which I replied, "So?"  Yes, I can be an insensitive, mouth-breathing neanderthal when I want to be. They then told me I had more of a chance of getting bumped back verses moved up...my reply?  "Okay, thank you very much." 

So I arrived at 10:50 AM and within 20 minutes was on the gurney with wires stuck to me and an IV stuck in me.  They were running ahead of schedule.  Did you catch that?  They were running AHEAD of schedule! When's the last time THAT happened in the medical field?  And no, they did not bump any kids to get me in earlier.  Apparently the kids complain less and get done quicker than the adults do...go figure.  About two hours later I was in the recovery room with my lovely wife, a bevy of nurses (or was that a nurse named Bev? still groggy) and my new polyp-less nose.

Going back in time, about 34 years ago, I had my first operation.  Back then all of the doctors must have owned stock in the Vaseline Gauze Packing industry because they found it necessary to stick six feet of packing up each nostril.  My wife took one look at me and started to laugh uncontrollably.  I don't remember laughing or even smiling...I was afraid I would break my face or something.  Luckily times have changed and they no longer do that anymore.  So my Financial Tip of the Week is to sell your Vaseline Gauze Packing stock.

Back to present day, I was actually hoping that I would have massive black eyes and things of that nature...why?  Because when someone looks at me in this condition I could say something I've always wanted to say... "Hey, you should see the OTHER guy!!!