On Surgery

So I am getting a major surgery coming up here on Tuesday, November 25.  Yeah, that's right, directly before the the most Turkey-munchingest holiday of them all.  What of it?  

Some odd things happened in preparation for this surgery.  First of all, a little history.  The only "surgery" I have had in my life was having my wisdom teeth surgically removed.  Not exactly life-threatening.  SO I am a total newb in this arena.  Bring on the lions anyway.  

So a lady calls me to get some demographic information as part of my registration.  After getting the standard name, birthday, and social her first question was what religious affiliation I am.  I was a little confused at first but then immediately a light bulb went off and I totally got it.  

They ask you that question but it is what is implied, what they don't say, that is haunting.  They leave a part out.  The absent phrase is, "If you die and a religious representative is needed . . . ."  Of course they don't say that part because it would freak out masses of pre-surgery folk who'd then totally back out.  Docs and hospitals won't get paid, the health care industry would be turned on its ear.  Mass hysteria.   Any-who, I answered the question and went on with the rest of the survey.  Panic.

So that got me to thinking about dying on the table, which would totally suck.  So, hopefully, what I type here counts as my wishes...also, someone would have to see it.  I digress.  

If I die here's what I want to happen:

First the funeral.  In the ground, please.  Unless cremation is cheaper.  I care not what I am wearing.  I want Mazzy Star's "Into Dust" played at the funeral.  

All my stuff:  Goes to Addie and Jon.  My clothes can be donated to Goodwill or similar.  Addie can sell my car.  I still owe on it.  She can do whatever she wants with anything I have with a few exceptions.  My guitar cannot be sold or donated.  My books cannot be sold or donated.  

Eulogy:  

Who oh who to deliver a eulogy.  I immediately think of Ben Pruett.  Who else knows me well enough and won't be so overwhelmed by sorrow?  Ok, so Ben it is.  I'd like an equal balance of ethos, pathos, and logos.

Invite everyone:  Friends and family.  Exception: If I didn't know them, they are not invited.  That goes for like the younger generation's gfs or bfs.  

I bet I'll make it through just fine.  But just in case the above will cover the big stuff I think.

How morbid.