I spent this afternoon in a fairly akward situation. A friend of mine who's had a chain of horrible circumstances in his life had things topped off by having to have hemroid surgery today. I drove him there and was there in the recovery room when he woke up from the anestesia. When he woke up, I asked him how he was and his first words were "I'd rather be in Philidelphia", which were Reagan's first words when he came out of surgery after he was shot. He was pretty drugged up he was hilarious. He was asking the nurse if they'd taken any before and after pictures of the whole thing. We were dying laughing joking about this stuff. The nurses were pretty sure my friend and I were a couple, which wasn't helped by the fact that he was staying at my house during his recovery and that I was responsible for him during the whole thing. I was squirming as the surgeon came in and described the procedure and what he'd found. The guy was British and really liked to use the term anus, pronounced "Enis" by him. The nurse was then describing to me the care and maintenance of "the wound" and I tried to make it very clear that I was taking no part in any part of the "wound maintenance" and that he was really on his own there. The whole discussion of the pros and cons of whether wearing maxi-pads or cotton would work best to catch the drainage was a lot of fun to hear.