Why cats should be welcome in hospitals

I still have a cough. It's vastly improved since its August heyday, but it's still there. At the hospital they warned me that, while it's not much more than an annoyance now, it could turn into pneumonia in my surgery-weakened system. And so it's in my best interest that I do breathing exercises with this plastic contraption.

It's boring and it makes me cough.

It's far more amusing here at home than it was in the hospital, though, because my cat Joey really enjoys watching the little yellow plunger on the far left moves from good to better to best. It's as though I have a cheering section!

I'll give it a try ...

My incision is still bleeding at the base! The hole looks too big and round to heal on its own. At least that's how it looks to me. I think I need another stitch down there.

I promised myself that if it was still bleeding, I'd call the doctor. And so this morning I did. After asking me a few questions to determine that it's not infected (and I'm confident it's not), the nurse -- ever the gatekeeper -- told me she believes it's because the gauze tears at it and advises me to keep it uncovered and exposed all day. Oh ... kay ...

Since I'm not really sure that's the problem at all, I told her I'd still like to see the doctor. So we're on for tomorrow at 4:00. "If it's necessary," she said. Oh, I think it is. I didn't go through all that surgery to be sidelined by an avoidable infection. Besides, I have some paperwork regarding my short-term disability coverage that he needs to complete. (I wish the insurance company didn't use the initials STD all the time!)

The less I see you, the more I want you

I just watched The Big Dog, President Bill Clinton, on Meet the Press. As he effortlessly answered questions about his work with the Clinton Global Initiative … Israeli-Palestinian relations … his wife's performance as Secretary of State … the economy … Barack Obama's re-election strategy … the GOP field … I was struck again by his intellect, charm, and overwhelming joie de vivre.

I adore him.

Of course, I can afford to adore him because we see him only occasionally. When he was at the center of our political life, the constant exposure remorselessly revealed his weaknesses as well as his strengths.

But now, when he just turns up every now and again to dazzle me, well, I simply adore him.