[Today is the five-year mark, since my cancer surgery in 2011. I am going to share a few posts from that year, and one other post. As you may know, the five-year anniversary for any cancer patient is a noteworthy day. So, in my own way I am marking it by living and breathing and testifying of my dear God and heavenly Father, Jehovah, who has shown me great kindness.]

fifth POST IN THIS SERIES: FIRST PUBLISHED OCTOBER 20, 2011

Well, not really, but it sure feels like it.

Today was a bunch of pre-op business and paper signing. It was a really hard day. Very long. Lots of blood taken. Lots of forewarning. Two EKGs, for crying out loud. (My heart is fine.) We left our house just before 10 a.m., and pulled into our drive-way just before 8 o’clock.

We did finally feel a strange relief, though, when it was all done.

Still, I am so freaked out by every aspect of this. A tube down my nose and throat? Possibly an epidural? Propofol? Really? They’re giving me the stuff that killed Michael Jackson?

I just hope I get lots of flowers. Lots of ’em.

And, I hope I don’t die. I told the Lord that as much as I would so love to be with Him, I just don’t want to leave my family, yet. Oh, it is so nice to think of being with Him, versus staying here. Really, who would want to stay here? Well, me. I’m just not ready to go.

I caught my husband looking at me towards the end of the last appointment. We’d been through so much by that point, so many explanations and questions, and he had such a look on his face. I wanted to smile at him, to make him feel better, like “I’m OK! It’s OK!” But, when I started to smile, I started to cry. I looked away and hoped he didn’t see my eyes fill-up. There are just so many emotions. It’s as if they all bubble up to the surface the moment you release one. Stoicism has its place. At least, it did today.

Until it was all over. And, then, there was relief. And, laughter. And, looking forward to being home with Hannah.