In less than two weeks, my Poppy will turn 89 years old! One of the primary purposes for spending a week in hometown Lynchburg, Va., was to assist in his long-scheduled hip replacement surgery on Tuesday.
My dad has previously undergone the knife for two new knees and a spanking new hip... so now he's four for four. And he's still got his own teeth. I should be as lucky by the time I reach 60.
We arrived at the gigantic Centra Health Hospital Tuesday morning, where Poppy, mama Evelyn and I expeditiously rolled through the check-in cycle until his scheduled surgery at 12:30 p.m. I tell you, this joint (har har) is a model of efficiency. Everyone was cordial and professional, while the facility itself is laid out with ease: check-in, cafeteria, waiting area and recovery rooms are all within steps of each other: no complicated web of wings and corridors to navigate.
I'm happy to say that he sailed through the procedure. My brother Chris arrived in the early afternoon and by the time we left my dad Tuesday evening, he was ready to get to work on the day's newspaper crossword puzzle.
Meanwhile, I noted at Centra Health that Lynchburg has gotten with the times... kinda sorta. In addition to "No Smoking" signs anywhere on the hospital premises (and get this melodramatic mandate: they won't hire you if you're a smoker), the facility also forbids firearms. Damn good to know, huh? *