An homage shared with us by the great minds over at Literature and Libation:
Even the boldest men get nervous before surgery. The flurry of unknowns, the potential mishaps, the inevitable pain and discomfort all linger on the periphery of your consciousness, sucker-punching you with doubt when you least expect and least need it.
You can combat this nervous energy by growing a beard. A few weeks before the set date (depending on your personal level of beardly blossoming) put the razor away. Let the whiskers envelop your face like a suit of woolen armor.
Walk into your pre-operational appointment with chin and cheeks full of hair. The nurses will swoon over the courageousness written all over your face, the doctors will nod in silent understanding and approval. Everyone in the hospital will know you came prepared: didn’t eat after midnight? Check. Showered and cleaned the appropriate areas? Check. Grew a beard? Check.
When you’re asked to strip to nothing and don the backless robe of shame, know that they cannot make you remove your facial hair. As long as you bear your beard, you will never be naked; it is a tattoo, a piece of jewelry, a mortal mark unique to you.
And when you finally wake up in recovery, unsure of the thin film between reality and unreality, reach up and scratch your beard. The course bristles will orient you, point you back towards to realm of lucidity, reestablish your dominance on this plane. Know that you triumphed over a jaunt into realms incorporeal and came back out a stronger, hairier man.
We thank you, Sir Oliver, for your contribution.