Call me Mr. Tasteless. Nothing to write about yesterday without offending sensibilities. What does that mean? Here is a hint. I am in search of a song to announce the restoration of a natural function to its daily nature. The hospital announces births with a few bars of a lullaby over the building-wide intercom and all I am asking for is equal time. Why should the birth canal lord it over the lower GI tract? There must be an appropriate song out there but I am stumped. One of the nurses has suggested, "You Dropped a Bomb on Me," and while that sounds like a good choice, it remains the only choice and it hardly seems fair to base this important decision on a field of one. Any suggestions will be taken into consideration.

There is every chance that I will be discharged from the hospital today, after nearly three weeks in here. I have lost track of time in here and that can be a good thing, but it also cuts me off from reality. Of course, the reality to which I consign myself really has nothing to do with the real world. When you reside in a mental health facility you need to be on your guard at all times. I am not speaking of physical safety; what I am speaking of is the trap of letting your mental state being defined by others, whether they are inmates or staff. And good luck telling the difference.

My friend Grant has been very good about coming to visit on an almost daily basis. He always brings coffee and sometimes a pastry. He and his wife Charlotte both have been very good friends throughout this whole ordeal, providing me with countless services that just make life a lot easier. When my wife Mary was sick, Charlotte used to appear every Wednesday with a complete supper ready to go in the oven. On some Wednesdays, depending on how Mary was feeling, we would go over to Charlotte and Grant's and have supper there. Good people and in no way responsible for my opinions or remarks.

It turns out that I will spend one more night here since I am due to come back for a short chemo session tomorrow. Back here on Friday for a routine dressing change using the fantastic Hydrofera Blue, a kind of fabric that starts out stiff and dry and is antimicrobial. They cut it to the size and shape of the wound and then cover that with this clear stuff called Tegaderm. That gets outlined with tape and we're ready to go. Fascinating stuff, right?