Pondering

I am definitely feeling far to well to submit myself to being ill again quite so soon. I am very busy contemplating my impending fate with the surgeon when spouse voluntarily asks me a question;

“What?”
“What what?”
“What are you deliberating about?”
“How bored I’m going to be.”
“When are you ever bored!”
“I will be bored when I am ill.”
“Are you planning to be ill? How can you plan to be ill? You’ve only just got well again!”
“The surgery, nit wit!”
“Oh, of course. Yes. Well that’s not really ill, not that kind of ill anyway. What’s that got to do with being bored?”
“I’m bored when I’m ill. It’s very boring being ill, you can’t do anything. I’ve had ten days of being ill and now that I’m well again it’s too soon to be bored again.”
“You want to postpone the surgery because you’ll be bored, is that what you’re saying?”
“Er, yes, I suppose it is.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t be bored you’ll be unconscious.”
“Not afterwards I won’t.”
“As near as damn it. You’ll be so whacked out on drugs you won’t know if it’s Christmas or Easter!”

“You think?”
“Definitely. Don’t think ‘bored,’ think ‘semi conscious.’”
“Are you trying to make me feel better?”
“Of course. I know how you’re allergic to ‘bored.’”