Band Camp Tragedy

 So from my Dad I inherited a great sense of humor, above average intelligence, love of the English language, and, unfortunately, bad hemorrhoids. I've suffered with them most of my adult life, and several years ago, the GI I went to, Dr. Neil, now retired and living in Boca, suggested "banding." This is a procedure where they strangle the offenders with rubber bands, choking off their blood supply, so they fall off like raisins left out too long. Neil didn't do the procedure, but referred me to a nice Venezuelan Jewish guy named Marcos, who did.

Since I have a strange sense of humor, I called the procedure "band camp," and had it done with Marcos, who seemed to take FOREVER putting on the bands. I later learned from a former friend, an anesthesiologist who worked with him, that indeed he had a fine reputation but was known to be plodding. After our one session, I decided I wanted no more plodding in my tuches.

Years later I found a different doc who did the newfangled procedure, called the "O'Regan Banding," sort of a higher tech band camp -- I started calling that space camp. The new guy, Dr. Shah, became my new GI after aforementioned Neil decamped to Boca, and Dr. Shah and I had 2 sessions of band camp. Probably I need another session...

But a dear friend made an appointment with Dr. Marcos, and asked me to find a lunch place close to his Baptist office tomorrow, so we could meet after HIS procedure. I looked up Dr. Marcos to make sure he was still near Baptist, and instead saw a terrible message from GastroHealth -- he had just died! At 59!

The article didn't give a cause -- just said "unexpectedly over the weekend." I'm guessing Jonathan can learn more details from the Venezuelan Jewish grapevine -- not that it truly matters. The only thing that does is that a good man is gone.

Years ago, I was at one of Jonathan's family's simchas, and the nice older lady next to me had the same last name as Marcos. Of course, I soon learned she was his mother, and after a few drinks we laughed about how her son knew me more intimately than most anyone else. She assured me I wasn't the only one -- and I recall how much she adored and admired him. I think she had a younger son who was a doctor, too -- maybe up in Weston.

As Jim Morrison noted, no one here gets out alive.

Wifey has a new mah jong friend, Karen. I knew her Dad -- Gerry Kogan -- Florida Supreme Court Justice. Karen was caring for her 92 year old Mom at Grove Isle -- and she just died today, too. And on Thursday we have the interment of Wifey's friend Alissa's cremains.

Fortunately, I made plans with my friend Pat to meet at Fox's Thursday night -- he's in town from PA. I think I may Uber over and have a few -- to celebrate remaining vertical amongst all this horizontality. 

So may the Big Man bring peace to Dr. Marcos's family. 59 is pretty damned young. But when the Big Man says it's time; it's time.

Dr. Shah is in his 40s. Hopefully my current band/space camp director will be around a long, long time.