Just kidding. I don't expect great food on a plate in the hospital. Last time, I woke up from surgery to see the beaming face of a beautiful nurse staring at my eyes. At first I thought, uh-oh, something went wrong, this is an angel and I'm in heaven. But then I heard Oprah chortling on the tv and I knew that was not the case.
Due to some sort of mixup, they brought me a dinner plate, while I was still on an IV drip, and in seconds, an orderly grabbed that tray away from my table like Manny Machado scooping up a hot grounder...but not before I snagged the dinner roll, which I hid beneath my pillow and nibbled on through the night.
As always, the real angel in my life, Peggy, will come through like the champ she is, helping me dress, putting on those daggone tight white socks, bringing me tea and biscuits. All the while, she can count on hearing those four special words that mean so much to any woman:
"Peggy, is that you?"
I can't hardly wait!