Today I saw a poster about a lost cat. The address was the building across from me. In the ad it said, "He must have fallen from the 11th floor balcony, so he may be injured." $150 reward.
Yup, that's my cat! I'm sure of it. So it was 11 floors...not 12.
I didn't call the number. Seemed sort of silly to call and say, "Yeah, I saw your cat fall. He ran away. I don't know where he is. [Stupid Cat!]" But I feel like I'm hiding some sort of big secret now. I also feel like a big jerk. I hope they find their cat.
Tomorrow I'm seeing the plastic surgeon so she can take a look at my left hand. I'm not sure what to make of it - it's bad, but a bit different than the other side. I hope she can make sense of it. My surgery for the right hand is on the 23rd...just over a week away. My brother is having his wisdom teeth out the same day. My parents are away. So my little sister has been given the task of coming with me to the hospital, and then she's supposed to be the "nurse" for a few days. That scares me more than the surgery!
Actually, I shouldn't need much nursing. Apparently it's not a big deal. I guess I'll find out soon enough.
I watched a movie the other day called "The Doctor." It's about a surgeon who gets cancer, has to have radiation and ultimately surgery, and when he finally recovers is a much better and more compassionate doctor. Prior to that, he was a big arrogant jerk. It was a bit cliche, but it was a good movie. Doctors have a REALLY hard time being patients, but it usually does make them (us) better doctors. I hope that will be true for me.
For now, I'm having a lovely time not getting up at 5:00 and not working 100-hour weeks. Can't complain, really. Soon I'm going to have to start studying for a couple big exams I have coming up, but I'll put it off a bit longer.
