I went to the doctor today. He said that I had a heart attack at some point in the past, didn't know it, and it's water under my bridge (his words). He changed two medicines and took me off another and said, "Git outa here! See me in a month."

From AMOS:

IT's not the same place I left a few days ago, but I am home. The dog recognized me. I got through all the hoops in some record short time, I think, but I am burdened with more instructions and gadgets than I would have believed possible. USing the urostomy bag is a major learning experience at first. There are seven kinds of doohicky you can use for night sleeps, hiking, etc. Not to mention the barrage of prescriptions they fired at me as I was leaving the hospital. Sweet Mother of Gawd! Poor Daly has her hands so full trying to just handle message and phone calls and the like, not to mention laundry and (now) giving me injections of some kind of blood thinner.

I have to get to work puzzling the schedule out. But I wanted you to know I have survived surgery and am home in one piece.