Soon I'll be rolled down a hospital hall, leaving Sarah alone in the pre-surgery room so I can be the absolute center of attention as they slice my belly open.
It shouldn't be that hard because the Doctor has a scar to go by, just follow the healed stitches while carving.
A few months ago I survived major surgery to remove a mess of cancer happily growing everywhere except my lungs and they almost got it all.
Under my organized wife's instructions I healed nicely for five months when it suddenly stopped.
An "incision hernia" means my intestines are poking outside of my newly constructed stomach, pancreas and liver.
Luckily, I'm still under warranty.
The only thing I know for certain is it's going to "hurt like Hell."
Dr. Senkowski doesn't believe in sugar coating things.
Luckily for me, there's Morphine at the hospital!
When I'm released, treatment consists of copious amounts of home remedies naturally grown and widely enjoyed by people flying under the radar.
I must admit the best thing about more surgery is the naturally grown leafy substance to enjoy during recovery which, of course, will last for the rest of my life, however long that is!
No one knows, especially the doctors, how much time I have but I'm feeling alright most days. I focus on the moments I have because worse times are coming. It's going to be bad but, in the scheme of things, we have a moment before another operation. Afterwards we'll survey the damage and work to heal.
Like most care-givers Sarah doesn't receive Morphine or engage in home remedies making hers a much heavier burden.
She doesn't want this.
Sure as Hell, she doesn't deserve it, but love makes you do things you'd never consider.
Squeezing my hand, she walks beside me down the wicked, lonely road, out of love, or insanity. It's hard to tell the difference.
She's strong. I'm strong. But my best fights are behind me and Sarah's in her prime.
Sarah makes certain we're never hungry or thirsty.
Lord knows I'm not the snappiest dresser but Sarah buys me new tee shirts, running shorts and is introducing me to cold weather clothing which I seem to suddenly need every day this time of year.
I enjoy the home remedies, listen to good music, talk to the girls and play with Che as she struggles to find time for everything.
We both care for the entire world, helping the causes of peace, love and understanding, which are the roots of the Gospel, but Sarah's gifted at boiling things down to the basics whereas I, as my old friend Will D. Campbell once said, "design global sprinkler systems" offering water to whoever needs it while my wife combines tenderness with expertise passing out one cup at a time.
We compliment each other struggling to not compete. the greatest example of opposites attract!
We are "like prisoners' appointed for death, we have become a spectacle for the whole world. To Angels as well as people we are fools for Christ" (I Corinthians 4:10).
We don't care.
Against all odds we're in this together.
Sarah believes everything's going to be alright.
I believe that when I die one of two things is going to happen. Either everyone who doesn't believe in God's right and I'm dead. That's alright. I won't know. I won't care. It'll be like sleeping with morphine or something.
Or I'm going to wake up and immediately be confronted with choices.
The very first thing I'm going to do is look at my hand to see Sarah's hand in mine.
Afterwards I'll check out what's next.
