Regret

It looks like cancer. We are scheduling you for surgery next week and we'll have more answers then. But...maybe you should start thinking about putting your affairs in order.

For some reason this strikes me as funny and I laugh out loud. This earns me concerned looks, somewhere between pity and fear that maybe it's affected my brain and I'm already losing it. I straighten up as much as I can.

It's so strange when it happens to you. Everyone says it, but it's true. Ironically the moment in my life I'd most like to forget or tune out is coming in crystal clear. Where did this fine tune clarity come from and why can't I tap into it at work or when I need to get things done. Hum. Strange. Oh shit, I realize I've missed part of the conversation listening to my inner dialog when I finally notice my doctor looking at me, seemingly waiting for an answer. Ooook.?? I figure that's a safe bet. It's not like they are really giving you choices at this point. Just waiting for you to acknowledge the plan as a Curtsey.