A case of the Mondays

I’ve definitely got a case of the Mondays. For once, though, I feel it is justified. I’m gearing up for what is potentially one of the more intense weeks of my life. Three (big) things are happening: 1) My father-in-law undergoes very serious surgery, 2) I say “farewell” to a few of the dearest friends I’ve ever had, and 3) my 10-year high school reunion. By the time Memorial Day rolls around, I anticipate that I will feel physically and emotionally drained.

 Today’s event is my father-in-law’s surgery. Three weeks ago we found out that he is having a recurrence of cancer. In 2009 he took on colon cancer and, after a painful and lengthy treatment and recovery, beat it. Then a couple of months ago some of his regular lab tests came back looking kind of funny, and after some poking around the doctors found a tumor in his liver. I guess the liver is hard to see well via medical imaging, because today’s surgery is both corrective and exploratory: they will remove as much as the tumor as possible, yet they’re also going to take a look in there and “see what they see” in terms of if the cancer is elsewhere.  As is my nature, I’ve done some research on the topic—via internet and talking with my cancer-savvy nurse-mom—and liver surgery is risky, per sé. What you also need to know about Jim is that he has diabetes and has for more than fifteen years struggled with his heart.  He’s had multiple bypass surgeries and also has a pacemaker AND a defibrillator in there, keeping him going. So today’s surgery is going to be pretty hard on Jim’s body. He’s a fighter if I ever saw one—this guy has an immense will to live. Yet I can’t help but feel worried— for Jim, and as such, for my husband and his/my whole family. Jim is under the knife as I write this. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’d appreciate any prayers and/or positive vibes as we await results.

I will have more to say on the other two events as the week marches on.