Happy birthday, we love you
It was Monday that morning too, eleven years ago this moment, January 24, 2011, snow on the ground, twenty-something degrees out, a wind coming off Lake Erie, cold as the dickens. Bundled against it, in the predawn blackness our group had ridden the campus trolley from our motel over to the Heart Institute, and after a few minutes in the waiting area, a wheelchair had rolled up and I'd been whisked away to "prep". "Take off everything but your birthday suit and lie down on the gurney," she said. "Shall I keep my birthday suit on?" I asked. But it was Monday morning where nothing is funny. Her workweek just begun and, humorless, with authority and a one-line script, she commanded again. "Take off everything but your birthday suit." So off with it and lie flat on the gurney to be shaved toes to neck with an electric razor that was set to nick painfully, which, thinking back, I am pretty sure was the part she enjoyed most. In a couple minutes ...