Marilyn laughed at that. "Tell them the kids and I are arguing over the will already!"
I had another laugh at that. Still, Ari actually did have to issue a statement. There was an excellent chance the stock market would tank as soon as the markets opened. There had actually been cases where rumormongers had managed to plant credible stories and profited on the ensuing stock sales. I sent Ari off to speak to the doctors, and told Josh I was stuck here for a bit while they ran some more tests.
Those tests were scheduled for that morning. Again, when you are the President, you do not wait around in the hallway hoping to get fit into the schedule. Just like last night I had all sorts of senior doctors kibitzing over me, the same happened now. It wasn't just any old technician; I had the Chief of Internal Medicine and the White House Physician overseeing the top technician in the hospital! I got another MRI scan, another ultrasound, and now got something new, a radionuclide scan of my gall bladder.
Maybe the problem before was simply that I managed to get sick in a small town in upstate New York. Anything serious that happened got farmed out to the big city, Albany or Syracuse or Rochester. Insurance wasn't going to cover shipping my ass all over back then. In addition, there is a difference in the care you get with a small town clinic with a physician's assistant versus a major teaching hospital in the nation's capital. This bunch had a suspicion about my gall bladder before I even went to bed last night!
I couldn't eat until after all the testing, which took up the entire morning, and after that I got a semi-decent meal. Early afternoon, I met with the doctors, with Marilyn next to me. The diagnosis? My gall bladder was shot. The thing had all these tiny little gallstones in it, but a few were large enough to cause problems. The cure was pretty basic, which was to remove my gall bladder surgically, via laparoscopy.
Nothing was new about this. I had been through it once before. The really good news was that this bunch figured it out a whole lot quicker than on my first go. I wasn't going to have to go through months of guessing games while suffering. The surgery was scheduled for tomorrow morning. My lunch today was my last meal until after the surgery. Joy!
I sent Marilyn back to the White House, if simply to get her out of my remaining hair for the afternoon. She promised to bring the kids over later. I didn't get all that much rest, however. Both Josh and John McCain came to visit. "How are you feeling, Carl?", asked the Vice President.
I looked over at Josh and smiled. "He reminds me of the Vice President at my frat house in college, the guy whose campaign slogan was 'Only a heartbeat away!'" That got a laugh from both of them, and I told John, "I'm feeling a lot better now. Have you heard the latest?"
He shook his head. "Just what Ari told at the press briefing this morning. You were feeling better and spent the night comfortably, and that your heart is just fine."
"That's not precisely what he said.", added my Chief of Staff. "He told them that the reason they knew it wasn't your heart was that the doctors had absolute medical confirmation that the Democrats were right, and that you were indeed heartless."
I laughed at that. "He didn't!"
He shook his head. "No, he didn't. That would have made for a great press briefing, though, wouldn't it? No, he just gave a standard briefing. Your heart is fine, you are resting comfortably, further tests are scheduled."
"Blah, blah, blah.", I told him.
"Essentially. He did have a nice time informing Fox News that you were still alive."
"Huh?"
McCain snorted and answered, "Fox News reported in an exclusive early this morning that you had a heart attack and were in a coma on life support."
"Did they mourn or applaud?", I asked. John made a waffling motion with his hand. "Tremendous!", I said.
"So, what's the plan, Mister President?", asked Josh.
I snorted. "My gall bladder has to come out. They are scheduling the surgery for tomorrow morning. I gather it is pretty straightforward, but I am going to be here for another couple of days, and then be stuck in the White House for a week or so. You'll need to have Ari do some kind of a press briefing, probably with a doctor or two around. Big pictures, small words."
"How's Marilyn holding up?", asked John.
I smiled. "She was pretty nervous last night, but she calmed down when they told her it was my gall bladder. I sent her away, since she was driving me batty. She'll be back with the kids sometime tonight."
We chatted a bit more, but not of anything too important. After that, they left, and I watched some news and napped until dinner. Not that I got any dinner. Charlie, the wiseass, told me about the delicious lunch he had dined on, and how he was taking the girls out later for dinner. Then he asked, just in passing of course, not that he had any worries, what were my plans for the recliner back in Hereford. Marilyn and his sisters dutifully slugged him. After that, he took the girls out, and Marilyn stayed with me until visitor's hours were over, and then she told me she'd see me in the morning. I went to sleep hungry.
The next morning, the doctors waited until Marilyn showed up. She told me that the Vice President was going to be an Acting President while I was in surgery, and I simply replied that he shouldn't get too comfortable in my swivel chair. Twenty years ago, they would have had to cut me open and leave me with a big zipper. Now, with laparoscopic techniques, I would get a few holes and they'd stick robot arms in through them. I would be walking by that afternoon. It really is mind-boggling when you think about it. I signed a bunch of waivers, and then they began loading me up with some happy juice. They had me count backwards from 100; "100... 99..." Zzzzzzz! I was out like a light!
I stayed there until the next afternoon, and only managed to escape when I promised I would stay in the Residence and not sneak down to my office. Out in the real world, they would send you home the next morning, or sooner if they could get away with it. When Marilyn had her gall bladder removed a few years after I did, she was sent packing the same day, and she damn near collapsed just walking into our house. Hell of a system! When I left the hospital, there must have been a hundred reporters and photographers outside in the cold, waiting for me to die on camera. I simply walked out the door, shook a few hands, waved, and took off. We already had issued a statement where I was praising everybody and their brother at the hospital. Since the gall bladder attack had occurred on a Monday, and I wasn't released until Thursday, I basically took the rest of the week and weekend off. The White House Residence staff, and a lot of the West Wing staffers came out and greeted me when I got back, and I made sure to thank them all. Then it was up to the Residence, so I could get something decent to eat.
The kids were there to see me come home. The girls fluttered around offering help and pillows and iced tea and everything else. That lasted all of five minutes, and then they kissed me on the cheek and went back to College Park. I'm not sure Charlie lasted that long. He gave me the latest on his motocross plans, and then took off. I went into the bedroom, where I was going to get some bed rest on a real bed, without any tubes sticking out of me. Stormy jumped up on the bed with me and tried to push me around, which hurt some, but I pushed her off me as needed. Marilyn made me a late lunch of a ham and cheese sandwich, which really hit the spot. Then she asked, "How are you feeling. Can I get you anything else?"
I smiled and a wicked thought came through my brain. "Well, now that you mention it ... Remember Monday night, when this all started, what you were up to then?"
"What? I have no idea ... CARL! You are a dirty old man!"