I recently underwent minor surgery, during which I had to be put out. Everything went fine, and I am perfectly well recovered now. Looking back, my overall impression of the experience is dominated by how much waiting I had to do. I got dressed in my hospital gown and lay down in a bed and waited.
While waiting, I remarked to the editor of this blog — I was extremely fortunate to have her by my side through the entire ordeal — that one day (hopefully far in the future) I would be in a hospital bed just like this, except it would be my deathbed.
Read on for some thoughts about the deathbed in Finnegans Wake and the need to accept our mortality.
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