Victor here, reporting Nic is home and is resting & eating jello. The initial pathology says the growth is benign.
Free wi-fi!
If I could, I'd live blog the whole thing, but I suppose that isn't realistic.
I've gotten a lot of really nice calls and notes today...thank you! It actually is making me feel a little less scared. I mean, I'm on prayer lists for at least two different religions, which is pretty good for an atheist. (Maybe a real atheist wouldn't like that, but I'll gratefully take support in every form it's offered.)
Now I just need to pass the next fourteen hours. I have a feeling I won't sleep very well. Maybe I'll watch the news...on second thought, maybe not.
This is the way the season ends
Not with a bang-zoom but a wimper.
It is disappointing, I suppose...the rest of the fans on the internet seem thoroughly disgusted, anyway...but it seems to me that to rebuild, you might as well start at the bottom with some good draft picks.
I'm looking forward to April.
I guess I haven't had much to say, not that that has stopped me for the last three (three? oh my God, it's been five) years.
Tomorrow is the final game of the Nationals' season. It hasn't been spectacular, but I still love them, and I'm already counting down 'til spring training.
Pre-season hockey has started. I'm stealing furtive looks at the Tampa Bay web sites. I feel so unclean.
Maryland beat Clemson today. I dared not hope for such a thing, and I didn't watch the game because I didn't want to stress myself.
Sports really isn't the most important thing in the world, or even my life, but I am finding it a very useful distraction. I can't fix the world. (Can't fix sports either, of course.)
I had my pre-op physical on Thursday. I am remarkably healthy, except for this lump on my thyroid. So at worst, if I have cancer, I'm at least in good shape to weather the treatment. At best, I'll be home by primetime on Tuesday night with a cool scar and a week off work to catch up on movies and books.
The nurse practitioner who did my exam gave me a prescription for a new anti-emetic to take before the anesthesia on Tuesday, too, so hopefully I won't spend all my days off puking like I did last time I had surgery. (That was ten years ago. A lot can improve in ten years.)
Just in case I do get sick, I went ahead and cut off my hair. Really long hair is incompatible with vomiting.
If all goes well, I'll be back midweek next week, with enough boring posts to choke a server.
One of my favorite Peanuts strips ran in the comics this week.
Schroeder comes to the pitcher's mound and says "The bases are loaded again, and there's still nobody out."
"So what do you think?" asks Charlie Brown.
There's a panel with the boys standing silently, then Schroeder says "We live in difficult times."
it seems like everybody around me is going through one of those pile-it-on stages; difficult time after difficult time. I'm about the luckiest person I know right now, and I'm getting ready to have surgery...
We went out for dinner last night. The kids at the restaurant were wearing football jerseys instead of their usual uniform shirts, I guess a special Sunday thing.
The guy who waited on us was wearing a Dallas Cowboys jersey. So was a waitress. Another had on a Chiefs jersey. From across the room, I thought at least the bartender was wearing a Redskins jersey...but when he came into the light, I realized it wasn't so burgundy, and it said Leinart on the back.
Seriously, who the heck is an Arizona Cardinals fan?
But really, the insult was the Cowboys. There was a time in this town when somebody who depended on tips would not have dared to wear a Cowboys jersey in Redskins country.
Not that I can actually compare. I'm just speaking metaphorically.
Remember I said I was stringing beads because it helped me relax?
I ran out of beads, so I went online and ordered some more. The bead company sent me a nice catalog, about the size of the Sporting News College Football Preview issue. Really cool beads, much better than I found at the craft store. I ordered more beads.
Today's mail included a bigger, better catalog, about the size of the old Sears Wishbook.
No, not that one.
Lance Armstrong returns to professional racing
Iiiiiiiiiiinteresting.
So, Astana? I can't see Armstrong racing for anybody but Bruyneel. And I can't see le Tour not inviting a Lance Armstrong team. But where's that leave poor Levi Leipheimer?
Iiiiiiiiiiinteresting.
At least this will improve the OLN Versus ratings this season.
September 30, at the hospital down the street.
As hospitals go, this one gets solidly average marks, but it's not like I'm going in for brain surgery...I'd spring for Hopkins if that were the case. It struck me, as I was diligently comparing death rates from every health care facility in the metro area, that a good portion of the country doesn't have a choice of ten hospitals less than an hour away.
Anyway, I wish I could get it done sooner to get it over with, but I have a work conference the week of September 21 that's already paid for. Plus, it was reassuring that the surgeon said "Sure, wait a month, if that fits your schedule better" instead of "Good God, we need to remove this thyroid now!"
And coincidentally, this puts my recovery right between baseball season and hockey season, so I won't have to miss any Nats or Caps games.
One of our smoke detectors went off at 2:45 a.m.
The excellent news was, our house was not on fire. I sort of lost perspective for a little while this morning, with lack of sleep and all.
A new smoke detector (the top-rated one from Consumer Reports, which hopefully does not cause random false alarms) is on the way, along with an escape ladder for the bedroom. I've been meaning to buy one of those since I moved into the house.
Just because I'm no longer afraid to die doesn't mean I want to.
Ok, I met the surgeon, and I got a very good vibe from him. He answered most of my questions before I even asked them, he took the ultrasound films out and started showing me things, he used his pens and his fingers to make little models of my windpipe and esophagus...exactly what I was hoping. I am totally ready to hand this man a scalpel and let him cut my throat.
Of course, we need to get insurance paperwork done first, then see when the hospital has room, etc., etc. But time is not of the essence...if we can get it in next week, great, but if not, it is fine to wait until after my conference late in the month.
He doesn't think it is cancer, which is also a nice thing to hear. If it isn't, they only need to remove part of the thyroid, and in that case I shouldn't even have to spend the night in the hospital. (But I can justify a week off work.)