THE MONKEY WRENCH IS THROWN

The monkey wrench

TUESDAY (2 days to go) – Well, with 48 hours left on the clock, the whole thing threatens to come apart. At the last minute, a series of calls from the surgeon’s office revealed that they had never bothered to clear the operation with my insurance. They clumsily tried to put the blame on me but I lost it. “Time after time, as recently as two weeks ago just before I started on a liquid diet,” I said. “I asked you if the insurance was squared away and you said: ‘Yes, you’re ahead of the game.’ ”  

It occurred to me that I might have struggled through this stupid diet for nothing. I think my reasoning prevailed and we managed to set in motion the machinery needed to get it done. My doctors all responded like champs. But there’s only so many hours to go and the firewalls of a gigantic and unfeeling insurance company to breech. It’s going to take a Herculean effort on the part of a few overworked young ladies to get it done.

I’m down. I feel defeated by the system although I’ve played by all its rules for so long. I’m not sure what went wrong, but I know it wasn’t my fault. We’ll have to wait for tomorrow -- and it’s going to be a cliffhanger. Shit!

Waiting on the sideline is my secret weapon. Marcia is primed to go and chomping at the bit. But I don’t want to send her into action until I’m sure she’s needed and the people involved deserve to die. She takes no prisoners. But she’s to be considered a nuclear weapon and must be used with care. But if the time comes, I won’t hesitate to use her.

Speaking of those who deserve the wrath of God, someday I’ll tell you about Sirius Satellite Radio.

At this point I’m hoping against hope. I must tell you, the odds don’t look good.