This whole hospital thing was a bigger deal than I expected. I kept thinking I would be leaving the hospital in a couple of hours, then in the morning, then tomorrow.  But, now I am home and will be sleeping in my own beddie-bye tonight. After a nice home made – very soft – dinner and a relaxing watch of Jon Stewart.

Being in the hospital is strange because every day is the same – while so different from my real life – in pace and flavor. The lights in the hall, outside my room, are on – at the same level – all all day and all night. There are a variety of beeping sounds at all times; there are a variety of nurses, a surprisingly high number of whom are Filipino, walking quickly to and fro; and a variety of old people, with and without walkers, slowly shuffling along.

I am in the Cardiac Surveillance Unit because my hemoglobin count is low which is a potential heart problem. But then – with a cow valve – everything is a potential heart problem. Outside, it is bright and clear: in the low 60s during the day and in the low 40s at night; inside the weather is just the gentle A/C flow. Outside, Egypt is falling apart, or falling together, or – hopefully not – just convulsing to, once again, fall back into what passes for normalcy in the dictatorships we call our Arab friends.

Inside there seems to be no Superbowl. Inside, there seems to be no live TV although every room has one. Inside Becky – from Uganda – comes by to cheerfully wake me to check my blood. Outside the world goes its Darwinian way while – inside – I am in a bubble of privilege.

I am writing this from my hospital room. Not a place I had expected to be. After feeling punker and punker, and weaker and weaker, and more nauseous and more nauseous; I threw up a lot more blood than I would have guessed I had. I think that Michele had all ready called 911 before I told her I didn't feel good.¹

The Woodside Fire Department was there in what seemed like 30 seconds and they called for additional paramedics who were there even faster. Our tax dollars at work.

Here it is 36 hours later and I have had four blood transfusions and have started to walk the halls with the aid of a walker. No longer worried about dying – at least in the foreseeable future.

1. As I was deteriorating – earlier – and Michele had kept asking me how I felt and I would say Not so good, or I don't feel very good. Finally, Michele said, Here is the deal, If you say you really don't feel good, we are going to emergency. So I kept hedging.

At least once a month – it seems – somebody at Fox tries to take on Jon Stewart. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that about once a month, Jon Stewart makes some crack about Fox and somebody at Fox takes exception. Then they get their ass kicked. Why do these idiots at Fox do this.

Do they just figure that because their research is so shoddy, Stewart's will be shoddy also? I guess it should be because The Daily Show is only a comedy show, but – by now – they should have learned. But they haven't learned and we are given an enjoyable little nugget like this.