Call Me Lumpy: My Leave It to Beaver Days and Other Wild Hollywood Life (44 page)

BOOK: Call Me Lumpy: My Leave It to Beaver Days and Other Wild Hollywood Life
5.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
 
Page 219
I said, "Let's go. Let's do it."
So I said, "Who's the best doctor?"
And I had heard it was a guy named Ham Hannah.
He said, "The guy's really good."
But they said he was real busy.
I said, "I don't care. I only live once. Get him."
So I get him to come to my room. And I think he was trying to palm me off on another doctor.
But then I got to him. I told him, "Listen, pal. This is a no-choice situation for you. If you kill me, you'll never work in this town again. Because you're killin' a living TV legend."
I said, "If you make it, I'm gonna bust your chops, because you're a really nice guy. But I'll really be appreciative."
Well, he cracks up and he starts laughin'.
Five minutes later, we're talkin' about old-time rock 'n' roll music.
He was a big rock 'n' roll fan. Needless to say, I was a big rock 'n' roll expert.
So we got along famously.
I dug this guy.
He was a cool guy. He was my idea of what a doctor should be.
And you know what? I trusted my life with him.
I said, "Ham. You gotta do me."
And he says, "I'll do you."
He says, "We'll do it Tuesday."
I said, "No problem waitin' 'til Tuesday?"
He said, "Well keep you alive."
So I had to wait from Thursday 'til Tuesday.
So Monday night football, the 49ers are playin' the Packers, and I'm sittin' in the hospital room and I'm really not that nervous.
And I got my cheesehead.
And I'm all by myself.
And the kids had already gone home.
Becka had left.
I was havin' surgery at dawn.
Eleven o'clock, they're in overtime in this game.
The door opens up.
It's Ham.
He looks in. And he goes, "How are ya?"
And I go, "Why aren't you home sleeping?"
He says, "Don't you worry about me."
I said, "No. I am worried about you. You've got a big day tomorrow. You have a very important surgery."
He says, "I'm gonna be just fine. I want to check you out."
 
Page 220
And man, the guy comes over and he sits on my bed.
And he puts his arm around me.
And we start talkin' about the football game.
And I said, "Well, I'd kinda like to see the Packers win here because I've got a bet."
And I said, "By the way, I might add, I plan on collecting this bet."
And he just looks at me and he smiles again.
The guy was cool.
And he stays there with me until the game is over. And then he says, "All right, I'm gonna go home and get some rest. I'll see ya at 6."
Well, I didn't know, but when he got home, he got an emergency phone call and he was up half the night.
But right there at 6 o'clock in the morning, they wheel me into surgery.
I got my cheesehead on.
Whatta ya think.
I'm leavin' that behind?
No way.
As I'm goin' down the hall, there's a few people yellin', "Go-Go!"
They really were. It was funny. It was nice and light.
And then, of course, we had a very touching moment with Becka and the kids before I went into surgery.
But I told 'em, and I meant it sincerely, I said, "I'll see ya in a few hours. I'm tellin' ya the guy is cool. Everything's gonna be OK."
Becka says, "It better be."
And I said, "It's gonna be. I promise you.
"I don't break my promises."
So the next thing I know, I wake up.
Problem was, I woke up six hours too early.
They explained to me I'd have this breathing pipe down my throat, and there wasn't gonna be anyone there to take it out until 7 in the morning.
I opened up one eye, and it was 12:30 in the morning and it scared the hell out of me. I felt like I was gagging and I couldn't breathe.
That was probably the worst six hours of my life.
But Ham showed up at dawn. They took the pipe out.
I knew I was OK.
From there on in, it was a piece of cake.
And I got out of the hospital a week later and started my recuperation and all that.
I went to see Ham and I brought him an autographed picture.
And the autographed picture said, "Ham, you saved my bacon."
He cracked up.
And I said to him, "You tell me no one ever said that to you before."
 
Page 221
He said, "I've been doing this 23 years and nobody ever said that to me."
And I said, "Well, then you had a bunch of dullards you were hackin' away on, pal."
But I said, "I really do appreciate it. I do thank you. And you won't be sorry."
He was a cool guy and a great surgeon, and tellin' you about him right now is just one tiny way I can begin to repay him.
Ham lives in Prairie Village, Kansas. And you won't find a better doc anywhere in the world.
If you need one, look him up.
Because Ham is one smooth operator.
I am living proof, here to tell you about it.
I'll offer him up as one last example, for the time being, of the fact that I have been watched over.
I have been blessed.
More than anyone I can think of, I have so much to be grateful for.
Before I went in for surgery, someone asked me if I was worried about it.
I told 'em no.
But I told 'em that I thought about going up to heaven.
And I imagined whoever's on the Pearly Gates asking me, "Do you want more years?"
I'd have said, "Yeah. Heck yeah. I'd like more years.
"But if I don't get 'em?
"I can't complain.
"I definitely got my 54 years worth."
And I totally feel that way.
But I also totally feel this, just as strongly:
The true end to this book hasn't been written yet.
My storyour storyBecka's and minehas a great future.
There's a lot in store for us.
And I just want you to know, Becka, honey, we're gonna wind up somewhere on the Monterrey coast between Big Sur and Carmel.
We're gonna be sittin' on a rock in front of the surf.
Watchin' the sun go down.
Some beautiful music.
Holding hands and drinking a beautiful glass of wine.
Just lookin' up.
Gotta look up.
There's all kinds of great things to look up to.
 
Page 222
Afterword
By Rebecca Bank
Dear Frank,
We finished reading the last three chapters of the first draft of your book tonight. I loved every chapter. The last three especially. The emotions they brought out in both of us were so intense. Tears, tenderness and uncontrollable laughter; thanks mostly to Elliot. You immortalized him forever. I'm sure he's smiling.
When I read the words you wrote about me, they took my breath away. You still know how to give me goose bumps. You know I believe in the meant to be's . . . the things that are b'shert. Karma, and that everything happens for a reason. There are no coincidences. Well, you mentioned soul mates. Yes. Yes. Yes. I believe in soul mates, and I truly believe we have shared our lives for eons past, and eons yet to come. If I had a magic wand, I would wave it over all humanity so that each person could find their own true love. I guess I was at the right place and time when we met. Does that make me lucky or was that the hand of fate?
You know Frankie, I've had people ask me why I wasn't appalled and humiliated to have my husband so openly and explicitly write a book focusing on the details of his sex-capades. I explain that I already know your stories from front and back, sexual or just plain outrageous. Nothing about you shocks me anymore. I tell them that for many years I assumed that maybe 50% of what you told me was true, and the rest well, maybe stretched. How could one person have such a life. Over the years though, I've either met the person that matched the story, or met someone who confirmed everything you had told me, and sometimes more. I tell them that the late 50's and the 60's were "The Days", and all was possible. It was the cutting edge. Look, I say, Frank was a star of one of the top television shows of the time, he had a great personality, he dressed nice, and drove the most awesome cars. Who wouldn't want to hang around and be part of the life of such a magnanimous guy? Us Southern California baby boomers can all relate I'm sure.
 
BOOK: Call Me Lumpy: My Leave It to Beaver Days and Other Wild Hollywood Life
5.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Nightwind's Woman by Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Twilight's Dawn by Bishop, Anne
An Affair of Vengeance by Michele, Jamie
Jack Iron by Kerry Newcomb
Oppressed by Kira Saito
Whispers in the Dark by Chase J. Jackson
Evil in a Mask by Dennis Wheatley
Mrs. Maddox by McGuire, Jamie
Pretend You Love Me by Julie Anne Peters