I think, I wait, I fast...

...with apologies to Herman Hesse's Siddhartha, these are the days of thinking, waiting, fasting, especially while Rich is in surgery number five.

Thinking about a cure?  Wish I could.  Last night, Rich received message from oncologist offering up a suggestion of a drug that has had success for one patient, in Germany.  The catch is that this experiment will cost $15,000-$20,000 for a month's supply.  Rich is priceless -- but this drug?

And I wait.  With Rich in pre-op, at 5:30 in the morning.  Surgeon is optimistic he can dig deep and not hurt Rich too much.  When Rich is wheeled off into Operating Room 21, I briskly walk to the elevators and down into the cafeteria where I have a breakfast of oatmeal and cinnamon raisin bagel with butter and try not to think what is happening to Rich.  

During previous surgeries, I would take this time for planning, for making lists.  Now I scoop the cereal with my left hand and hold the pen in my right but by the time the bowl is empty and the last pat of butter is scrapped clean -- nothing is on the page.

Satisfied, I put the blank pad and the pen back in my pack.  I think I've accomplished something, though not sure what.

And while over the next seven hours I will consume a latte and a tea and the lunch buffet and an oatmeal scone, I'm fasting.  From sleep, from eating (I'm just fueling), from anything other than this moment which is sucking out of me what I once called "life."

Siddhartha found his truth by a river.  Maybe mine, too (any coincidence Sloan Kettering is on the East River?)

I didn't remain with Rich long in post-op; I was allowed only ten minutes.

"I never saw a human being heal so well," says the surgeon, who has come to love this patient.

Surgery was a success.

"Now let's hope for some magic," he says.

How long before it grows back, I ask.

He doesn't say anything.

Three months, I suggest.

It's a real estate problem, he explains.  There's no room deep in the spine.  A millimeter or two, that's all that is needed to cause trouble.

We need to think of other possibilities.  Fast.  We can't wait.

Candace