It's Surgery Week. Let's Talk About Nerves.
4 days until surgery. The madness Richter scale is rising. I'd say we're at a 5. No, 6. 6 and mounting steadily. I recall informing people during the early stages of my treatment that I was "quite zen" about things. I wasn't being flip here. Or arrogant. I wasn't trying to downplay the gravity of our family being handed a second cancer diagnosis. I was just telling the truth. I felt peaceful. I don't know why. I'm a freak. I'm a weirdo. I don't belong here. If you approached me anytime from late February until maybe a few weeks ago and asked me how I was doing that's probably the answer you got: I feel fine. I'm at peace. Life, I love you; all is groovy. Of course, timing is everything. My sometimes fragile mental state has been subject to a rather extreme yo-yo effect since diagnosis. The first two weeks? Zen is not the word I'd use to describe...anything. Things were more like... a rabid runaway train heading full-speed towards a...