The long hard discussions have been had, and I've scheduled surgery on August 24th. I would never have known to even get checked if a relative hadn't casually mentioned around the end of the year last year "Oh, I have this hereditary thing that killed your grandfather and almost killed your father. Haha, bet you were glad when you didn't have it."
No one had ever mentioned it to me. Turns out it tried to kill me, too, same way it tried to get my father. Old goat was treated for the same type of aneurysm I have for over two decades and didn't need surgery. Or to mention it to his son, apparently.
I'm having a final night of light drinking before the push toward surgery and I'm reading 20th century poetry. I'm allowed as long as I take a few blood thinners and drink plenty of water. The booze, not sure I'm allowed poetry. Forgive me, I'm an old school introspective drinker sometimes. In vino veritas, in whiskey weight.
I likely won't be around very much for awhile as I gear up to the 24th, perhaps the occasional bad joke about cows and politics and a bit of Olympic discussion. Assuming all will go well, but in any event, thanks GMTAN. May your headstones hold the words of Rudyard Kipling, and deserve them. I have never known a more horrifying group of degenerates for whom I'd be proud to go to prison for helping hide a body. May we all fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds' worth of distance run.
If I die, all of my likes go to k4 for her birthday.
See you all on the 25th.