Tuesday Afternoon

A date has been set. The notifications have begun. The preparations have started. Eleven days left before I rid my body of this latest devilish intruder.

After much debate, shuffling of schedules and numerous phone calls my surgeons settled on Tuesday, February 17th as the date for my surgery. As it is a seriously long surgery (10-12 hours) I am assuming that I will have to get into NYU pretty early, but I don't have a definite time yet. I did go in today for my pre-surgical testing (just blood work, medical history and EKG) and to meet with the anesthesiologist, who wrinkled her nose at my dark nail polish and suggested I come in with a french manicure (ha! little does she know what Maz has planned for me for Valentine's Day!). On Monday, I go to visit yet another doctor (how am I going to keep these bills straight?) in order to obtain medical clearance, which, quite frankly, if they don't know by now that I am extraordinarily healthy (well, you know, except for this whole cancer thing), then shame on them! But, I trudge from doctor to doctor as I am instructed, smiling and joking and filling out forms with the same information over and over again. I tell my story from the beginning ("In November of 1994, I found a lump in my breast...") trying not to leave out important details (like the time I forgot to mention my cranial biopsy - thank goodness Warren was there to remind me).

It appears that I will have a small entourage accompanying me to the hospital - Warren; my brother Bruce; and Taryn, who is fiercely determined to be there with me despite my efforts to convince her otherwise. I have (half) jokingly told all of them that they should work on Tuesday - it's not like they are likely to get to see me until Wednesday. They shoot me down on that right away and I then suggest bringing Travel Yahtzee so they can at least enjoy the wait. They are not really in joking moods. I begin to realize how scary it is for them. And underneath it all, I am grateful that each one of them will be there.

I have lists. Just in case. A list of things to take care of. A list of things to give away. A list of passwords. Instructions for this, suggestions for that. I remember visiting my mom in the hospital, when we knew she was sick, but before she had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She showed me her lists and I teased her about Bruce getting her truck when she knew perfectly well that Chris wanted it. There is still a list on my stepfather's refrigerator, 3 1/2 years later, stating exactly when certain bills should be paid. (Seeing her handwriting is oddly comforting.) I'm not particularly nervous or afraid or apprehensive, although being under anesthesia for that long gives me some pause, but I am a planner and I just can't do this without trying to make it easier for my family. Just in case.

I am perpetually reminded of how great life is - Taryn got into her top choice for college (University of Maryland); Jodi sent me a "BandanaGram" (who knew they even existed?); June and Ginny from APLC virtually hopped up and down with happiness to see me at church; and best of all - Girls' Night Out is Tuesday the 10th. One last hurrah (and a big juicy steak) before taking the surgical plunge. Martini's for everyone!