Show up at the hospital. We have been told that this will be an all day affair and to be patient. Dev is with us. They weigh me, take vital signs, take my blood and ask all sorts of questions. Forms are filled out and consents signed.  All the forms acknowledge the light risk of something going wrong. Does anybody not sign these things? Doesn’t that make them redundant on some level?

The big question: Are you allergic to any drugs? We don’t know and tell them about our experience with the Percocet. I am labeled as opiate naive. They put down no allergies, and we will cover that as we move forward. We finally go home to get ready for the next day. Nothing to eat or drink after midnight. Be at the hospital at 6AM. Operation is at 8, don’t be late. So the irony is that I have to wake up at 5 to be put to sleep at 8.

The operation is discussed a bit. They will start with a laparoscopic surgery. If all goes well, the procedure will take about 4 hours. There is a slight chance of them having to open me up if things look a bit too complicated. They will know only when I am under.

We go home and spend the rest of the day talking. This is all so new and moving at such a fast clip. It is really hard to come to grips with any of it, and there is a lot to come to grips with.

A week before the operation and the wait is interminable. I went to sleep early last night as I do most nights. Janet is calling the cats in for the night. We have three cats, Marble (the alpha cat), Busbie, and BooBoo LongPaws. All the cats have multiple names.

Marble is known also as Monkey. He sleeps in our bed every night, at our head right between Janet and I. He is Janet’s cat. Loves her to bits.

Busbie is also known as, well OK, she has only one name. She is overweight and has become very loving. She loves to be patted. She is pretty much anyone’s cat. Will go to anyone for a stroke and a pat.

BooBoo LongPaws, officially named Rumpus, is the newest addition to the house. He is barely 1 year old and has to be the softest most lovable cat we have ever had.

The cats are trained to come when we whistle for them. We do not like to leave them out overnight. The nightly ritual is for one of us (ususally me) to stand on the front porch and whistle for them. But Janet does the honours since I am in bed early most nights.

I hear a faint cat cry, but do not pay attention to it. Janet comes upstairs to say that BooBoo is nowhere to be seen, but that she is hearing this cat cry every time she whistles. I get dressed, grab our 20 year old flash light and go out to help look for him. There will be no peace in the house until we find him.

We whistle, the cat cries. We start walking in the direction of the cry. It is farther from the house than we expected. There is a school yard across the street from our house. They have a section cordoned off for composting. There is a beautiful very leafy tree in this section, and we swear the cris are coming from the tree. I shine the flash light up in the tree and cannot see a thing. I need a new flash light, one of thse new fangled LED jobs.

The cries are silent, but return when we move away from the tree. I finally spot him, way up, and I mean way up. I go hoome and bring the ladder back with me. It is a 6 foot job that lets me reach teh lower branches. Last time I climbed a tree was in 1966 in England. I start the climb up. The ladder is 6 feet hign, I am 5ft 10in, which puts the cat at about 12 to 14ft. As soon as I get near him, he digs his claws into my head.

Need a new tactic. I get behind him. He is wedged in between two branches and appears to be twisted. Does not look good. I lift him with one hand and grab him with the other. One or both of us might go for a spill if I am not careful. I place him on branches as I ake my way down. He is not making any moves to go anywhere, which is a good thing.

I finally make my way back to the ladder and hand him to Janet. Our neighbour John Brown has joined us to see what the commotion is all about. He takes the ladder back while Janet handles BooBoo.

The bad news: he is not moving his rear paws. We rush to the Emergency Veterinary Clinic. That is what I will be when I get re-incarnated. You pay them $500 just to walk in through the door. They take us in right away. He does not look good, his back paws are not reacting to anything, he appears to be in shock. They suggest we drive to Guelph where they have the expertise to look after him.

The doctor goes off to make a couple of phone calls. She comes back to tell us that somehow, BooBoo appears to be showing some movement in his back paws. Small movements, but movements nevertheless. We do not drive to Guelph, but take him home to see what happens.

Long story short, he is fine. Had to spend a couple of weeks in a cage so as to not damage himmself any further. Then had to stay indoors for another couple of weeks. He is out and about now. Caught a bird this past week. And ATE the damn thing.

Oh BooBoo.

I have an appointment with Yama and Steve Lennox for the big handover. It will be emotional. I take another Percocet to kill the pain. Janet and I drive to her office and I walk over to Monarch, same as any other day. The handover is quite smooth. Steve Lennox and Chandler are both there. Chandler set up their system, and is very familiar with the terrain. I will make myself available as required to make sure everything is running as it should and to answer any questions. I am apparently a bit high from the Percocet. I have no idea if that is true. But I am quite vocal and animated, and feeling no pain. Pain is very debilitating. No pain is great!

The meeting over, I make my goodbyes. Yama has sent an eMail and people have been inquiring. Lisa, Shawn, Yama and Antonella are the only ones who knew anything. By now, everyone is in the know. Shirley and Florence are in tears. Come visit. About that.. I finally leave and go home.

By the time Janet gets home, I am in a state of utter confusion and possibly panic. The drug masks all pain. Because of the various things going on in my body, some of the sensations and impulses had changed. For instance, I knew I had to pee because of sharp pains coming from what I suppose is my bladder. These were not continuous, or terribly hard, just a sharp stab that let me know it is time. The Percocet has stopped those stabs, so I have no idea when I have to pee. And when I do go to the bathroom, I have no control over any muscles. Think about that for just a second. You push, but since I have no feelings anywhere, what am I pushing. No idea.

I am off Percocet. This is some scary drug.

We call Ruth to find out if I should go on Tylenol 2 or 3. Turns out there is a Tylenol 1 drug which is over the counter. Who knew? Janet is off to the drug store and gets me some. Take 2. The drug takes its sweet time to make its magic work, but work it does. Pain is gone but some sensations and level of control remain.

My diet is pretty much all liquid at the moment or easily digestible solids. Janet, Devin and Leslie are becoming experts at making soups that are put through the blender, then through a sieve. I hate soup. The kind of food that leaves you still hungry for something real. But this is the best thing for me now. Occasionally, we have pasta with some delectable sauce that Devin invents. All soft and easy on the system.

And now we wait for Sept 1, the day we prep for the operation.

I am not sure who comes up with the medical terminology, but I am positive the terms and names are designed to obfuscate matters. Oncologist is one such word. Went in to see ours today. This is the quarterback of the chemo treatment. Dr. David Hedley (I have to stop giggling) is amazing if his profile on the web is to be believed.

We arrive on time and are eventually ushered in. His assistant, Chahnaz, is Iranian, and we strike up a conversation. She is charming. Talk about instant simpatico.  Dr. Hedley comes in. He appears to be excited to see us. Says he has been looking forward to this. We have a complicated case. He sprawls himself in the room, totally at home and makes me feel very comfortable as a result. Nothing business like or officious here.

He talks at great length about what is coming and the complications that we might run into. He is full of information. Listens attentively when we ask questions or make comments. Makes a big point about wellness. This is not just a medical procedure, but one in which the body and spirit participate. It is vital that I be well throughout the procedure. They have all sorts of support personnel to assist with the process. He appears to have surrounded himself with caring people.

He leaves after he is sure that we have achieved some sort of comfort level. Chahnaz comes in and is full of optimism and support. She will put us in touch with all the right people. No worries. She asks about what sort of medication I am taking for the pain I am in. We are taking Extra Strength Tylenol. It is all she can do not to laugh. Gets us a prescription for Percocet. I must be the only person inthe world who has no idea what this is.

We finally go home where I take one percocet. Magic. No pain, in fact no feelings whatsoever. Who needs an operation. I feel better already.

This was a trying day. One in which you have to face the reality of the situation. The cancer is quite advanced and we have to move fast. Once the primary source is removed, I have to regain my strength to get ready for the next phase. A date of October 1 is set for starting the chemo. This is a tentative date but gives us an idea of how serious this all is. Dr. Hedley describes and gives us notes on the three chemo drugs I am to take. A portacath is to be inserted in my chest. This will be used to apply the chemo drugs. Sounds quite civilised. You should up on day one and the chemo bag is connected to the portacath. You go home. None of this business of staying in the hospital all day. You go back a couple of days later to have the bag removed and the portacath flushed to prevent infections. This process is repeated every couple of weeks through Christmas.  Sounds like a dream come true.

The true impact of the situation is slow to sink in. We avoid it as much as possible. We really have no idea what to expect coming from a household that has never been sick. What is a hospital stay like? What happens once you go home? What the ramifications/repercussions of chemo? We are given asll sorts of literature to read. I am in no mood to read anything right now. Having a very hard time concentrating on anything.

We are very tired by the time we go home. Quiet. Not sure what to think or how to process all this information.

Sunday. So many people come to visit. To talk. Just be there. Kali and David want to come for lunch. Aviva and David join us as well. We go through the whole story from the beginning. Everyone wants details. What were the first signs? When did you know? The unasked questions, what turbulence is going on in your precious brain? How are you holding up? How is Janet? And finally, how is Devin? This last one carries a lot of emotion for everyone. He is loved by all, those who have met him recently, and those who have watched him grow up.  All are concerned about him, and how he is handling things.

David Jang has brought his camera. Kali has insisted that pictures be taken of us before. She wants to document the whole thing in pictures. I am not prepared for that. But pictures now is a good idea. He takes a bunch. Janet and I ham it up, take some serious poses. We have fun, and for a second, all troubles are forgotten.

The support of family and friends has been totally overwhelming and humbling. In my wildest dreams, I could not have imagined the level of concern, the love, and the constant queries to make sure we are doing OK coming from all parts of the world.

Everyone leaves. Supper. Bed.

I have an appointment to talk with Yama at 10 this morning. I am not looking forward to this. Lucky I kept him in the know through it all. We sit in the boardroom and I bring him up to date. I have to liquidate my company. Changing phone numbers, making all sorts of changes. [...]

I have a 9:00AM appointment to see a Ki Energy person. All these things are so interesting. Janet insists on driving me. She is very uncomfortable leaving me alone in case something happens. It is all I can do to convince her to go to work after she drops me off. So many people who [...]

Sunny outside. No hospital visits planned. We can pretend this is all happening to someone else. We decide to make a day of it . I have a massage booked for 10:30 at the Asha Massage & Ayurvedic Healing on Danforth. The charming Megan is going to make me feel better. I am not big [...]

The hard week continues. Off to PMH to see the liver doctor. We wait for 2 hours. Notice I am not talking about anything that happened in the morning. Nothing happened in the morning. We did not exist. We finally get in to see the doctor. But it is not Dr. Gallinger, but someone called [...]

This is a quiet day. We hang out, eat, talk. Friends write and call. Pretty much nothing of import takes place. We are getting ready for the next day, psychologically. Don’t think they are going to do much other than talk to us about what is coming up. We are numb. I think that is [...]