City lights

WE GOT UP at 6:00 a.m., left for the hospital at 7:15. Went up Highway 1 to Skyline and then along the coast on the "Great Highway" all the way up to the Cliff House. It was mighty foggy and cold.

Fannie didn't say a thing. She was worried.

Soon, we were on Geary, which took us past Mel's Diner (yes, that one) and well into the city. We drove past St. Mark's and St. Mary's. At last, at about 8:00, we reached the hospital and then headed for the Ambulatory Surgical area on the 4th floor.

At 9:00, they finally called for Fannie, and off she went to prep for surgery. An hour later, they wheeled her toward the operating room. We didn't hear anything the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. We waited. All we had were two newspapers and Fannie's video iPod, which seemed to be filled with Dog the Bounty Hunter episodes and Hawaiian music. I opted for Dog.

At about 2:00, a fire alarm sounded. That entailed the usual obnoxious ring sound plus the flashing of very bright lights throughout the hospital. Over the intercom, we heard, "This is a red alert." Evidently, something on the roof was on fire. "That's just fucking great," I said.

Hospital employees looked concerned but did exactly nothing. We asked, "Is this serious, or what?" They shrugged. After about ten minutes, the alarm just stopped. Soon, it was as though nothing had happened.

We continued our vigil. I watched Dog. Some little kid came around and stared at me. I waved at him.

At 6:30, the oncologist came out and announced that the surgery was a success. They had removed various organs, but they had found no cancer in them.

While they were in there, they took out Fannie's appendix, too.

We said: "her appendix?"

"She requested that."

We waited around until 9:00 so that we could be there for Fannie when she came to. She was pretty groggy, boy. But she was glad to hear the good news.

She told us to go home and take care of Tiger-Ann, which we did. On the trip back, the fog had cleared, and we could actually see the ocean and the city lights.

"Wow," I said.

P.S. (11:00 a.m., Tuesday):

I let Tiger-Ann out on the deck, and she went out there and ate some grass. Then she stared at me. Something was wrong. I'm guessin' she misses her Mama Fannie who likely does stuff, like play with her ear tips or rub her chin. Who knows. I took a pic. This is how she stares at me.

I just went out there again, and she was soakin' up the sun (when it appears, intermittently) and mist (which never stops). Cats know how to roll with the punches.

Be a cat.