My pop is a terminal
overachiever.
Most people get a double, maybe a triple or even a quintuple bypass. Not pop. Nope, he's gotta go for the sextuple bypass.
I flew out Monday after they told him he had some blockage and scheduled the heart surgery. Of course they schedule it for Thursday morning after 10" of snow fell Wednesday night. I was pleased with myself for thinking to throw the chain saw in the truck for the 60 mile drive to Chattanooga. He was pleased with himself when the honey voiced, 20 something blonde nurse fed him dinner and gave him a sponge bath.
Now I'm trying to figure out who should tell him to lay off the biscuits and gravy. He's a bit of a contrary cuss for being 80 and all.
