You know how we old people often talk about how time speeds up as we grow older? It's a common phenomenon among all of us. Whole books have been written about it.
That changed suddenly when my pancreatic cancer was diagnosed on 31 May. In the 20 days since then, time has moved like mud. Sometimes, when I've checked the day's date, my reaction was, “Is that all? Really? I thought it was at least two days later.”
But now the big day is here. My friend Autumn, who is also my health care proxy, has arrived from New Jersey. She will drive me to the hospital in the morning and be here through most of this week.
I've set up templates for her on my blog platform so she can easily update you on how things are going. I don't know how long it will be until I can post again but I'm taking a laptop to the hospital just in case.
I have no idea if I am being overly optimistic about that but indulge me anyway, okay? And we'll see how it goes.
Whatever comes of this, it will be hard to ever thank you, dear readers, in any way that matches my feelings. Every one of you has my deeply-felt gratitude.
Your concern, love, thoughtfulness, ideas, jokes, suggestions and support have carried me through these scary weeks and now, apparently, as one of you commented a few days ago, it's going to be crowded in the operating room with all of you crammed in there to cheer me and the doctors on. Isn't that a wonderful image to hold?
See you back here as soon as I am able.