Only three months until hemicolectomy day! (Yes, that was sarcasm)
Three months to imagine this ugly mass still growing inside of me.
Three months to ruminate about all the things that can go wrong with the surgery.
Three months to freak out about what they might find once they get in there.
Three months to let my imagination run wild about all the horrible lives I might have to live after I recover.
And I realized that the easiest thing (not necessarily the best thing) that could happen was for me to die on the operating table… an absolutely painless passing into the eternal sleep. No more pain. No more anxiety. No more nausea. No more insomnia. No more agonizing about the meaning of life. Just a peaceful return to the eternal nothingness that preceded my birth.
And I realized that the worst that could happened was quite a long list of possibilities: Waking up and learning that my entire colon was removed… or that my cancer had spread… or that I needed more surgery… or that I needed chemo or radiation… or that I would have to live with a colostomy bag… or that my bowels leaked, leading to a nasty death by sepsis.
Only three months until hemicolectomy day!