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Our dinner stop was longer than I anticipated and I got home at 4:00am.  My father rose at 5:00am to take me to the surgical center and I didn’t bother trying to sleep.  As per the doctor’s instructions, I took a very long shower with an antibacterial scrubbing sponge and washed my nails and in between my toes as indicated.  I knew my shower was long when the hot water started giving out and I dressed in lose clothing after a final rinse down.  I packed a back of clothing I had from a past life to wear after surgery and my father drove me to the surgical center.  It was quiet there and I extended this quietude by turning off the television.  I posted to Facebook and changed into an examination gown.  The doctor marked where the incisions would go with a purple marker and provided a courtesy shield so I wouldn’t see it.  I felt like I was about to receive a tribal tattoo or face a microtome.
Me: Done this before?
Him: More than you know.
Me: Well, let’s see, you seem to be in your mid-fourties, you probably finished your surgical residency in your early thirties and you seem to operate four days a week.  Assuming one of the two procedures I’m getting constitutes a quarter of your business that comes out to about 50 a year for say 15 years.  You probably weren’t fully scheduled to start, so let’s say you went at full speed the last ten years and half that before.  You’ve probably done this about 500-600 times then.
Him: Actually, I hadn’t thought about it.  Sounds right, though.  You’re an actuary, right?
Me: Yeah.
Him: Makes sense.
I don’t remember the injection that knocked me out, but I woke up later and everyone was looking at my toes.  Somehow I had stubbed my toe during surgery and it was swollen and sensitive. The doctor asked me how and I mentioned that I wasn’t awake for it.  My abdomen hurt and I very much wanted to cough.  I tried to do so and I was warned that it might hurt.  I hugged a pillow and coughed.  This probably stands out as the most painful thing I’ve ever forced myself to do.  I felt like my insides were on cinders and that each movement of my diaphragm would rip it from my abdominal wall.  I was told I needed a gallon of intravenous water before surgery to raise my fluid levels and suddenly the “no fluids including water” mandate of my surgical prep period seemed odd.
I was offered a wheelchair to make it to the car and I refused.  I pivoted in the bed and tried to avoid using my abdominal muscles. It hurt like hell but I was on my feet.  I shuffled out to my mother’s car and noticed that I was wrapped up tightly in a compression garment, a secondary compression wrap, and that I had four vacuum drainage bulbs attached to me.  I made it to my mother’s, issued a single painful cough and planned to sleep.  My bed needed to allow me to stay jack knifed.  It would be a month before I could stand upright.  Sleep  involved bunching up pillows behind my back and beneath my knees.  Getting in and out of bed took about 10 minutes.  I went to sleep after taking a pain killer.  Day one of recovery had begun.

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Suzie and I met two Chicagoland friends for breakfast.  During the meal, I found out my surgery was to take place at 6 am the next day.  It takes 13 hours to get back from Chicago and we wound up leaving around 4pm which made for a somewhat tight window.  Suzie offered to drive but a combination of snow and back pain prevented her from doing so for long.  There’s a different feeling to being in the car alone driving over a long distance and being in the car with someone and doing all the driving.  Switching drivers would have been unsafe so I tried to think of Suzie as a hologram or foreign exchange student and that prevent the emotional part of my brain from being annoyed.  Suzie offered to come home with me and be there after surgery but I declined.  My abdomen would be hit with the surgical equivalent of a battering ram.  I wouldn’t want anyone there.
Today was my last day as a fat man and I lived it up.  I had sticky buns with breakfast, some toffee with lunch, and when the fasting mark started 8 hours before surgery I celebrated with a large quesadilla from Sheetz.  When that proved insufficient, Suzie gave me some of her french fries and popcorn chicken.
It was 10pm, I was five hours from home, and I was having mediocre popcorn chicken in a car with my best friend after we drove 1800 miles to go to an anime convention and Chicago.  This is the life I feel I’ve earned and for the first time I feel proud of it.
Time to face tomorrow.

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Sunday at Ohayocon was mostly about goodbyes.  I had met a few new people and there were a smattering of “I’ll keep in touch”-es which is a rare case where my cynicism doesn’t take over.  When people say “we’ll talk later” I take them at their word and then reach out when they don’t start the conversational ball rolling.  I suppose in the end they’re still right.  A gaggle of us went to an indoor market and I had hot soup followed by four desserts consumed one at a time as a chocolatier and I debated the finer points of tempering technique.
It was quite cold out and after lunch I decided to flat out run back to the car that was parked about 15 blocks away.  On the run to the car I joined up with a group of jogging co-eds and they commended me for running in my work clothes.  This would be the last time I got to run before having surgery.
Suzie and I eventually pulled ourselves away from the convention and made our way to Chicago where we would stay with half of a couple with which we were friends.  They were separated with an impending divorce and entering the condo felt strange.  We were met by a dog instead of two cats, three people lived there instead of two, and the name of the cohabitants had changed.  The view was the same, the dishwasher was just as loud, and the freezer tray still needed to be repaired.  I didn’t expect to be comforted by the sameness of the place as opposed to the sameness of the people.  We stayed up late talking that evening, because that’s what we do.  The sun started rising over Lake Michigan and we had seen dawn in Chicago again.

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Saturday at Ohayocon I got to participate in a panel on Valve Software.  I’m not a video game expert but I can mimic one by reading what vastly smarter and more insightful people have said, committing some of those lines to memory, and then saying them back at the appropriate time.  I did so here and that appeared to be successful.  I got to argue with Linux neck beards that contested that installing Linux was easy.  I contextualized their version of “easy” by asking if iOS would be easy to install if every iPhone owner received a phone and a boot CD they had to load to dump a ROM on their phone on purchase rather than simply entering an Apple ID.  They persisted in arguing even when I was otherwise talking and I was glad to have a microphone.
Ohayocon had furries, and this was new to me.  I feel a part of their menace comes from how completely the covering went.  The moment I can’t make out a human face, the costume registers as “other” and I’d be just as likely to believe that under each costume lied a robot, xenomorph, or member of the Borg Collective.  The furry costumes were quite ornate compared to many of the other costumes and this lifestyle appears to be either not for the faint of needle or faint of checkbook.
My assessment of yesterday’s costumes was a bit harsh.  The people in their homespun fandom were not here to impress me, well, a few were, but most were simply here to show allegiance.  Their simple costumes of just appropriately colored clothing pieces was their badge of identity not a statement on craftsman.  This was their convention and I was their guest.  Once this mentality change hit, the costumes seemed to get a lot better.
Suzie walked around the show floor scaring people and I spent my time trying to find odd juxtapositions:
[pe2-image src=”http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Ys2TB6u7JNA/UR3Uz7bcqrI/AAAAAAAA3Vc/5MvOP7_y4QE/s144-c-o/130119-14560-ohayocon.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/111254650097626470057/20130119Ohayocon#5845061879988005554″ caption=”Endurance – I was one of four photographers chasing these guys. I’d say we covered at least 200 yards chasing them until I got out in front enough to get a good shot.” type=”image” alt=”130119-14560-ohayocon.jpg” pe2_gal_format=”phototile” pe2_phototile=”800″ ] [pe2-image src=”http://lh6.ggpht.com/-p9bwvgyiodw/UR3U_L2kFKI/AAAAAAAA3Vs/IgKHpvR6vrU/s144-c-o/130119-14201-ohayocon.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/111254650097626470057/20130119Ohayocon#5845062073375265954″ caption=”Costumer – This customer is apparently from a five second dream sequence in some esoteric anime. I gave her the banana, she liked it as a prop.” type=”image” alt=”130119-14201-ohayocon.jpg” pe2_gal_format=”phototile” pe2_phototile=”800″ ] [pe2-image src=”http://lh3.ggpht.com/-mNcqG6ObRM8/UR3Vq1Hmh-I/AAAAAAAA3W8/NYH2N3U_zb8/s144-c-o/130119-14253-ohayocon.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/111254650097626470057/20130119Ohayocon#5845062823186958306″ caption=”In Line – Poison Ivy, Kratos, The Doctor, the Moon, and a guy in white robe.” type=”image” alt=”130119-14253-ohayocon.jpg” pe2_gal_format=”phototile” pe2_phototile=”800″ ] [pe2-image src=”http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ve_ZWRJTcVI/UR3VubtDt7I/AAAAAAAA3XE/Kq9_oLmDe6c/s144-c-o/130119-14272-ohayocon.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/111254650097626470057/20130119Ohayocon#5845062885084215218″ caption=”Plastic Man – I liked this one.” type=”image” alt=”130119-14272-ohayocon.jpg” pe2_gal_format=”phototile” pe2_phototile=”800″ ] [pe2-image src=”http://lh4.ggpht.com/-tMvHevp8bGU/UR3Vy3XPOHI/AAAAAAAA3XQ/iqU08gEfoJ0/s144-c-o/130119-14293-ohayocon.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/111254650097626470057/20130119Ohayocon#5845062961228363890″ caption=”Point Break-ish – I have a gif of these guys doing the YMCA. I assume this is a throw back to Point Break except that we didn’t have a black president then.” type=”image” alt=”130119-14293-ohayocon.jpg” pe2_gal_format=”phototile” pe2_phototile=”800″ ] [pe2-image src=”http://lh4.ggpht.com/-m6t0uUZDHY4/UR3V2yhjLVI/AAAAAAAA3Xc/1EFBRWtEYQY/s144-c-o/130119-14316-ohayocon.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/111254650097626470057/20130119Ohayocon#5845063028648914258″ caption=”Moves – The DDR tournament was nuts. Gravity isn’t fast enough so good players lean on a chair to be closer to the pads.” type=”image” alt=”130119-14316-ohayocon.jpg” pe2_gal_format=”phototile” pe2_phototile=”800″ ] [pe2-image src=”http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Y03ZPlA2Dqc/UR3V8kvdCbI/AAAAAAAA3X0/PnpKHcfeNh4/s144-c-o/130119-14387-ohayocon.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/111254650097626470057/20130119Ohayocon#5845063128028350898″ caption=”Distance – Half way through, I remembered how photography worked and swapped out the 24-70 for a 70-200, stepped a bit back and zoomed. That’s a bokeh a man can take home to mama.” type=”image” alt=”130119-14387-ohayocon.jpg” pe2_gal_format=”phototile” pe2_phototile=”800″ ] [pe2-image src=”http://lh4.ggpht.com/-kt1g7VAwCeY/UR3V_yXLYgI/AAAAAAAA3X8/vFGpO1S3nTY/s144-c-o/130119-14399-ohayocon.jpg” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/111254650097626470057/20130119Ohayocon#5845063183224234498″ caption=”Slender Man’s Quarry – Santa’s next.” type=”image” alt=”130119-14399-ohayocon.jpg” pe2_gal_format=”phototile” pe2_phototile=”800″ ]

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Road trips are broken down by scale:
<600 miles – Not a road trip, doesn’t even require filling up the tank twice.
2500>x>600 miles – Minimum road trip.  Have to fill up tank at least once strictly to cover distance but at no point are you more than a day from home.
5000>x>2500 miles – Road trip.  There’s a point in the trip that if you left at that instant, you wouldn’t be home for at least 16 hours, a full day, of driving.
>5000 miles – Grand road trip.  At the 5k mile mark, you need to have an oil change at some point.  Requiring vehicle maintenance on the road ups the stakes a bit.
This weekend, Suzie and I are going to Ohayocon in Columbus, Ohio and this marks our first dip into the category of “minimum road trip” since August.  We got underway and Suzie was to my right as we began driving West.  There was a wonderful strangeness to driving to Ohio with her in the car after so many cases where this was the solo leg of the trip.  The driving was easy and I got a parking spot immediately in front of the Ohayocon venue.  We walked in and slowly made it to the room where I was participating in a panel Suzie was running.  The going was slow from the infinitude of people stopping Suzie to say “hello”.  Here, she was a rock star.  The closest analog would be me at Ockanickon when I was ecology director and ran the Magic tournaments.  There I would have a cloud of people following me around.  A staff member referred to these kids as my “electrons”. Luckily, my electrons never hit on me.
I need to use the bathroom before the panel started so walked to the bathroom.  On the way back in, a convention staffer moved to stop me but I did what I always do when I don’t have appropriate credentials to be somewhere; I walked with purpose and a certain aloofness at a pace a little bit faster than most people.  He gave up stopping me after a few strides and going “sir!”.  Had he gotten in front of me and asked me what I was doing he would have received a “that’s a stupid question”.  This Star Trek-inspired tactic has about a 50% chance of success but is well worth the effort.

The panel was on survival horror games and involved bringing up unwitting audience members and trying to scare them.  Dim lighting, unfamiliar controls, scary games, and some well placed screaming made the event go well.  The costumes at Ohayocon were not too impressive and some didn’t even show any particular sense of craftsmanship.  Some people seemed to just ape the colors and ideas of their favorite fandom and for me that was unappealing.  Dragon*con had spoiled me.  This was the first convention where I felt exposed to “con folk” and my initial reaction to them was overly strong.  They were unwashed, poorly dressed, and were identifiable by the sound of their knuckles scraping behind themselves, or at least that’s how it was in my head.  On reflection, I’ve encountered the same people in Scouting and at Magic tournaments.  Just like in those other communities, they wanted to be there.  This was their hobby, a way of getting social engagement with people like them, and probably is the foundry of some of their finest memories.  They will grow-up a little, hopefully, and convention culture will have helped them bootstrap themselves into proper society… or they may become furries.  Who knows.

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Me: Hi.
Coworker: Today is your last day before you leave for surgery, correct?
Me: Yes. I’ll be out for two weeks.
Coworker: Our manager indicated that I should hug you because you and I went to school together. I do not think that would be appropriate so I would like to offer you a handshake. *holds out hand*.
Me: Thanks *shakes hand*
Coworker: May your recovery speed be a positive outlier in your favor.
I feel that last line should be the actuary’s blessing.

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Louis CK was performing at the Merriam theatre this evening and a foursome of us went to see him.  The Merriam is steeply sloped making it hard to have a bad seat and even the opener wasn’t bad.  Louis himself was wonderful with his combination of observational humor, periodic shock moments, and the DILLIGIF freedom that comes from being in your forties.
I went home and told my dad one of his bits, where Louis says that being divorced is great with the justification that “no one ever says ‘my divorce is falling apart’.”  My father thought for a second and retorted “That’s not true.  I’m divorced by I’m dating my ex-wife, I think my divorce is falling apart”.

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John and I met up at Drexel University where he teaches and had a picnic.  I brought lunch for two, snacks for two, desserts for two, and we had conversation fit for a dozen.  While I was torching the creme brûlée, a college student studying near us leaned over to me and said “I wish I could cook”.  I looked at him and said “I hope you learn to.  It’s fun and rewarding.”  He looked at me, I looked at him, and then he said “ok, I’ll leave now”.  On the way out, John wanted a cup of coffee so we stopped in one of the Drexel coffee shops.  A fellow in front of us in line was doing a card trick to try to impress someone and I look a picture of it.

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Card Person: Nice try but pictures of card tricks never turn out.
Me: I think I got it. *show him my camera*
Card Person: Wow, it did.  I’ve been looking for someone to shoot a show of mine.
Me: I’d love to, I generally ask $60 an hour for events, how long is your show?
Card Person: About two hours, but I don’t have that kind of money.  I’m sorry.
Me: Well, what else do you do?
Card Person: I also do fire eating as well.
Me: How about this, you teach me to eat fire, and I’ll give you a touched up set of photos of your total show.
Card Person: Deal.  How should I contact you?
Me: Here’s my card, that’s a picture of me riding a sheep.
Card Person: I think I can work with you.

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The trifle I prepared for the Reddit holiday party went about half eaten and I had no intention on finishing the other half myself.  So I packed it into a large Rubbermaid container and kept it refrigerated for work tomorrow.  The layers had mingled into a uniform brown backdrop into which wisps of white were streaked.  It looked unappetizing but a spoonful contained chocolate, cookie bits, Nilla wafer crumbs, and a hint of something vaguely fruity so I figured my coworkers would eat it anyway.  But it still didn’t quite seem right so I put a layer of whipped cream on top and then added a cherry.  Bingo.  Fourteen or so layers collapsed into one was sad but fourteen collapsed into three was entirely acceptable.

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Suzie invited Janine and I to a Reddit holiday party in Philly this evening.  I don’t use Reddit, but I appreciate that it has its own community, norms, and customs so I tried to go with my arms spread wide.  By that I mean I brought a trifle and a copy of Jungle Speed.  This trifle version had more layers than my previous one and probably contained fewer calories but more total sugar.  The glass plus contents weighted about 16 lbs and my hands felt weak after holding it up for more than half a minute or so.

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The party itself was fine.  I missed many of the internet references, didn’t know many people’s names and don’t drink but still the atmosphere was enjoyable and it’s nice to meet new people.  A few hours into the evening, I brought out a copy of Jungle Speed and part of the room descended into madness.  One of the things I like about Jungle Speed is that skill compounds.  If you exit a round slightly sooner than others, you’ll be more rested for the next game making your odds of victory a little bit higher.  Two new players were the last out in each round and were exhausted after three games.  The last game went about 45 minutes and ended with one of the players coming over to me and saying “I hate you”.

Glad I could bring people together.