Just wanted everyone to know that I survived, (no booing), and am even uglier than ever. My quest to have the most scarified stomach in America is one step closer to reality. I want to thank all those who wrote to wish me well (or whatever) and promise not to tell any bad hospital puns for at least a week or two. I'm not sure this will actually make the FML; I'm writing it on an IBM laptop (yes, I'm neekid under this sheet, yes, there are ALL types of tubes in me...) to be downloaded onto my brand-new super-duper mac, translated and God knows what else just to tell you about (da da dah) "The Great Ferret Caper!" Its very lonely when yer full of tubes an' yer butt is cold because the nurse fergot to pull the sheet up and someone you don't know poked thier head in to ask you where the hell thier mother is just saw yer neekid cold butt and some little girl who looks younger than yer daughter just told you you're allergic to morphine but don't worry they'll find something just as good and the med student who just poked on yer belly doesn't even have peach-fuzz and....but to get back on track, I was sort of lonely, so I asked the SO if she could, well, sneak just one little beastie in for a hug. After some negotiation in which I believe I lost the rights to all my significant body parts, she agreed. She used the "Coat"; a 1975-vintage kelly-green authentic Sierra Designs 60-40 jacket (with orignial liner) that the fuzzies think is their mother. She brought in Stella, who had been off her feed since I went in (she has lost 1/4 lb for no reason!). We were both overjoyed. Stella ran all over me, sniffing my IV and nose tube and, well, she sniffed a lot. She seemed to understand not to bother the silver-studded suture site, and came up, curled up on my chest, and went to sleep (her fav sleepin' spot). For those of you who don't know, Stella has a mask that can only be called opossum-like. She's beautiful in her own way, but every once in a while, when the light is right, you might wonder about the genetics of one or more of her ancestors. As often happens, she slid off my now hairless chest (no, not shaved..the hair was PULLED OFF in LITTLE TINY BITS by little ROUND ELECTRODE THINGS!) and came to rest in my left axillary region; another fav site. Well, as you might have guessed, in pops the nurse I haven't seen for three hours when I wanted a damp sponge to slightly moisten my cracked and bleeding tongue. I carefully pulled the sheet over Stella, who not only looks like a opossum, but plays like one (SND), and motioned to the SO to sneak her away. But the nurse was too fast, plopping her ice-cold stethoscope down on my chest to see if I could breathe in my now frigid state. I slowly moved my arm over Stella to hide her from view, and glanced down to see if everything was ok. To my horror, I saw a little grey nose poking out between my arm and chest, sniffing at the stethoscope. I looked up at the nurse, who had the bluest pair of eyes I had ever seen, who was also transfixed on the grey nose. She slowly moved the stethoscope back, and said something about how there was a baby opossum in my bed and not to move until security could come and kill it. I just about lost whatever bowel control I had left after the surgery. In panic, I looked at the wonderful woman who claimed to be my SO; she was laughing like a lone hyaena in a den of lions. The nurse was strangely giggling as well. Stella yawned. I realized I'd been had; the nurse was the SO's buddy, and they thought they would teach me a lesson about the dangers of ferret smuggling. Well, everybody thought Stella was the cutest thang they'd ever seen; she was passed around and loved the attention. After a couple of kisses, she crawled back on the (hairless) chest to sleep. When she left, I gave her a sock to remember me by, which she accepted with grace and dignity. But this will not be forgotten... I should excape from this palace of pleasure in about three or four days. Hopefully, you will all feel sorry for me and wish me back. And hopefully, that wonderful SO of mine can get this in the mail. By the way, if any of you have some type of evil nasty idea of how I can get even, let me know... Bob (or 99% of Bob) Moose, Stella, Daye, Tori, and Bear. Stella says, "I miss the big guy, but he sure gets excited..." [Posted in FML issue 1379]