Making happy

Two dozen pink roses

Yesterday, I had my first ever experience with surgery. (I don’t count the stitches in my hand at age 12, under local, as a real operation.) Before they even put the IV in to start the general anesthetic, I was laughing my head off. The anesthesiologist then put my oxygen mask on and told me to think about a happy place – my favorite vacation spot, maybe.

I came up blank. There are lots of places in the world that I have loved, but I’m not sure location alone can make me happy. Roses do, though.

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