dwelling upon the uncertain future. Sometimes, we think so much about what’s going to happen in the future that we forget to live in the present. Since my surgery, I am a much different person in outlook and in priorities. Just ask my family and friends. I don’t put off activities that I really want to do because I am too busy or because certain experiences are “too expensive.” They’re not, in the overall scheme of things.
Prior to the day of the Whipple surgery, there were many more tests, as well as a lot of additional paperwork to fill out. We were told that I would be in the hospital for about nine days. The first couple of days would be in intensive care and then the rest in a regular room.
On the day of my surgery, the six of us (Linda, Jennifer, Stacey, Phil, Adam, and I) arrived at the hospital at the crack of dawn. Thus, began a very long, stressful, and anxiety-filled day for the family. [I didn’t know it at the time, but friends Marc and Seth each dropped by during surgery to comfort the family. What a touching gesture.]
I tried to crack a joke to ease some of the tension. But I just got blank stares. My lame joke? The surgery would be the only part of this experience that I would enjoy more than you. After all, I’d be asleep. Groan. Groan. Groan. I tried.
Dr. Coppa stopped by and told the family that he would do his best to report back to them about halfway through the surgery to provide as much feedback as he could. He was a man of his word, which they greatly appreciated.