A year ago on September 16, a Sunday, I went to Rosh Hashana services, and then came home to wait for Dad to arrive. He was flying in from Los Angeles to drive me to the hospital, where my surgery was scheduled for the next morning, and to stay with me for a few days post-surgery. He got to my apartment at about 11:30pm.
I remember when he arrived he commented about how calm I was. I also remember wondering how else was I supposed to be? I knew I had to have surgery, and I'd prepared myself as best I could. Looking back, I think it's a good thing I didn't read up too much on other people's experiences with wide site excisions, because since my surgery I've read a few horror stories. It just never even occurred to me to look up people's accounts because the surgeon was pretty thorough in explaining everything to me and I'd read enough on the major skin cancer websites to understand what was being done and why.
In fact, I think I was more freaked out about having cancer than about the surgery to be honest. Surgery is something you can control (for the most part). Cancer is something we try to control and barely understand. So I knew what was happening the next morning, I'd had a month to research and think about it, and all that was left was for it to happen.
And a little over twelve hours later it was done.
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