On the morning of May 6, 2016, I received a cochlear implant at Tufts Medical Center in Boston. All reports say it was a successful operation and that the device works. I can’t tell you how happy I am to know that. It won’ t be activated for another month, which is a little longer than usual because of some personal conflicts.

We spent the night before – because I was first in line at 6am, and the night after the operation in Boston – because we figured after a general anesthesia and the two hour bus ride ahead of us we thought we might be better off staying over. It was a good decision.

It could be said that we didn’t sleep well in Boston. The tension before and the discomfort after the procedure fought against relaxing and sleeping. As soon as my head hit my own pillow I was out like a light. I have been able to sleep well for the past three nights as well as the odd pick-up nap here and there.

I thought I would just pop back and take up normal activities quickly. I quickly discovered that there was hardly any pop at all. I mean it was surgery on my head, general anesthesia, pain medication and – – – my age. That’s the clincher.

The idea of “Day Surgery” tends to instill a false sense of “Easy”. It ain’t that easy. At least not for octogenarians. It is true that you walk in and walk out. But you walk out with something less than what you brought in.

I’m good. I’d do it again. But it’s this kind of experience that really defines what it means to be old. Diminishing resilience. The bounce is gone. I could write a book about that.

Stay tuned.