Urania wiped Typist’s lenses with an alcohol swab and ran over the list one more time. “No contacts. No make-up. No lotion. We’ve showered twice with the special soap. Our tummies are rumbling…”
“And it’s time for us to cut off the clear liquids.” Calliope read over Nia’s shoulder.
“Surgery?” Thalia twirled. “Is that today?”
Words from Typist:
First — Yee-haw and yahoo!!! Sending out a warm hug and a great big thank you to everyone who is sporting Cal, Tal, and Nia on their chests. I am grateful for your pictures and messages. YOU LOOK MARVELOUS!
Second — I’m ready for today’s surgery. 👍 I have been paying very close attention to the muse’s chatter and I am delighted to report there has been very little perseveration as to what might or might not happen. We’re taking events as they come and looking at surgery as an adventure.
Third — An apropos quote from Maya Angelou was in my mailbox this morning…
Life loves to be taken by the lapel and told: “I’m with you kid. Let’s go.”
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