Trepidation

Karen and I have been working today the day for a long time and now that I actually have a date set aside for surgery I admit to some trepidation, some apphrehesion, some fear.

Side effects from radiation and chemo still linger and will for some time, but still, life without the leash is wonderful. Every day is another reality check. Another chore raises its' head, another issue to explore; seems like there will never be an end to what has to be done. So, we just plug along, one day, one breath at a time. How else to deal with life? I don't know...

In this brief period of suspended animation we are trying to find our old lives, our former selves, trying to reconnect without acknowledging the hidden air of desparation that wafts through our consciousness. Sometimes it is so hard to be completely hopeful; so difficult to believe in a good outcome. We weathered this first part pretty well and yet, at times, I just want to quit, want to avoid the pain and discomfort that will follow. Easier by far, to contemplate Karen and I in Woodland Caribou, living out the last of our days, alone and yet more together than most people will ever be. Pipe dreams offer small solace.

On September 29th I have another MRI, followed by a visit with Dr. Madoff on the 30th. Surgery is tenatively scheduled for October 2oth. How many days to get ready? Not enough and too many. Really, it doesn't matter. The choice does not exist. This is just another thing we have to do, together. For us there is no other way. But still, late at night when the neighborhood dogs are silent, fear and hope and dreams compete for attention. Time slows and the nights become too long and dawn is one more thing that seems so very far away.

Peace and prayers,
Mike