Wow. I apparently think like a luddite. Remember the old days when you used to have to call the hospital to speak to someone? Apparently I do. That was a dismal failure, because in this day and age, it's hard to get a number for a hospital. So after calling up, switching lines, getting directed to a wrong number, and being given another number to call, I decided to try Rocker's cellphone. Which no one answered. Same on Chuck's phone. And now we go back to square one. Explain to the operator what happened. She insists that's his room and transfers again.
A very tired, but not depressed sounding Rocker answers. Apparently the instant he got in to the hospital yesterday, the surgeon took one look at his MRIs and said, "We do surgery NOW!" And 30 minutes later Rocker was on the table. He's got a 5"-8" incision in his back, which has had all the time in the world to get worse. He's still not sleeping well, waking up every few hours, so he feels really drained and is running a fever. They're thinking of keeping him there until tomorrow. He sounds like either he could care less. What he really wants are his glasses.