Count backwards from 100...

Tomorrow is my birthday. And I'll be spending the majority of it under the influence of propofol and some industrial-strength pain killers. 

Hardly the ideal way to celebrate another trip around the sun. But this truth is, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm happy to tell you why.

As anyone who has been reading these pages or has been within old man earshot of me for the past several months, I have been in excruciating pain. I've had to curtail my late afternoon walks -- my dog Lucy is not happy with that development. There were a few rounds with physical therapy and the bending of my torso in ways it was never meant to be bended. 

And last month, I had a cortisone injection, all to stem the Marathon Man-like torture of my right hip joint.

On one recent walk, I almost keeled over and considered calling for an Uber to drive me the remaining 7 tenths of a mile back to my house. 

I could take no more and scheduled an appointment with Dr. Sassoon, who had replaced my left hip three years ago. He took one look at my x-ray and said, "you sprung a leak right here, so whatever fluid was protecting the joint is seeping away. That can be really painful." 

"Doc," I said "you don't have to tell me, now let's make with the morphine."

"We don't do that anymore, but with a little luck I can get you penciled for surgery in July."

There goes my ballroom dancing career. 

You can imagine my surprise and delight when I got a call from the surgical scheduler the very next day, telling me there had been a cancelation and an opening for next Friday, February 28th. 

My special day!

I snapped it up in a second. You might be thinking, "awww, Rich has to spend his birthday in a hospital." But the sad truth is this isn't my first Crappy Birthday while under the watchful eye of skilled medical professionals. 

On my 61st birthday, I was attempting to burn off some morning calories in preparation for that evening's predictable overconsumption. While lifting weights I accidentally dropped a 25 lbs. dumbbell on my hand, splitting my ring finger open and blurting out blood with more force than Yellowstone's Old Faithful geyser.

I'm laughing at the whole thing and see this cancellation as a great birthday gift. Besides, if therer's one thing life has taught me it's that it helps to deal with the ups and downs of Life with a good sense of humor. 

And a well-lubricated femur.