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Maybe it was the percocet. Maybe it was the excitement of being out of the house for the first time in a week. Either way, it was over so fast! I think Dr. Dawson thought I was kidding when, a few minutes into Wednesday’s post-op recovery I asked him if I could play my “rock…

When I woke, my wife, mother, and doctor stood over me like a Holy Trinity. I tried to speak, but could only gesture to Abbi for a kiss. I didn’t remember anything prior, or have any idea where I was. Through the fog, I heard Dr. Dawson report that the surgery went by the book.…

The Lenox Hill’s ER was manned by a slight, Russian-speaking security guard. “Name, age, and ailment,” he said handing me a pink slip of paper. Benjamin Wagner. 37. I paused at “ailment,” puzzling over how detailed I should be. I wrote, simply, “APPENDIX,” then took my seat in the dank, crowded waiting room. An elderly…

In some strange way, I felt relieved as I strode towards Lenox Hill Hospital’s Emergency Room with my plastic bag full of still-wet CAT scans; at least I knew what was wrong, and what had to be done. It was a strange day from the start. I’d slept scarcely a wink the night before, dragging…

“When are you going to get back to our time zone?” Abbi asked. The days following a long, cross-country business trip are always a bit hazy. Factor in the single-biggest, mission-critical, make-or-break event of the year, and a week of twelve-hour days culminating in an all-nighter and transcontinental flight and, well, you get the idea.…

By the time I got home tonight, my garment bag was somewhere between Los Angeles and New York, my Blackberry was missing, and both my cell phone and iPod were out of power. It was that kind of day. Yesterday’s flight was like the bus home from summer camp. There’s Ryan from news, Jen from…