Dream on.

     Today I saw the woman who is in large part responsible for my having knee surgery.  I first met her exactly one year ago, on Election Day 2012.  She'd had both knees replaced, four months apart, and is ecstatic with the results, as she was a year ago.  She is evidently in love with the surgeon; she refers to him by his first name.  She says she was not only pleased with the surgical results, but was thrilled to have awoken from the anesthesia seeing his face by her bedside.  Story of my life---I miss out on a lot of things.  My memory of waking up from the anesthesia is having the  disembodied voice of a nurse asking if I could move the toes on my right foot.  I tried, but no, I couldn't.  She asked if I could move the toes on my left, unoperated side, but no, I couldn't do that either, at that point.  I didn't care, though.  So I wasn't worried, but where is the romance in that interchange??