I thought the biopsy would be like drawing blood. It was actually more like surgery. I was given a hospital gown and tucked into bed with an IV and Valium. The operation itself was peculiar. It involved ultrasound, numbing shots, and a thing that sounded — as they said it would — like a nail gun.

Then I had to lie down for four hours interrupted by using a bedpan, which was a new and undesirable experience, and drawing blood, which is downright routine for me now.

The point of the public urination was to make sure I didn’t have internal bleeding, which would have showed up as blood in the urine. The male nurse had to help me put my underwear back on, completely against my will.

The blood had enough blood in it, or whatever they were looking for, and I got to go home after eight hours in the hospital. #1 daughter took me there and stayed with me the whole time. She kept me entertained and less scared than I would have been by myself. They required a driver/companion and I was fortunate to have her.

I then had three days of recuperation. Fortunately, this coincided with the long weekend.

Even more fortunately, #2 son came up to take care of me. His Christmas sweater fit and he liked it. He cooked for me and talked with me and kept my spirits up.

Today has been my last resting day. Tomorrow I’m getting back to work.

I hope I’m up for it.