Rest Stop 1: Denial

Saturday July 30, I awoke in my own bed in my own house. Wow, does that feel good. My oldest son, Nick drove from San Diego and Jeff spent most of the weekend here.

Larry is freaking out because there are tax reports that need to be filed for the end of the quarter. I already had done most of them several weeks ago, but I hadn't finished the federal. We sat down at my computer. I showed him how to pay the bills and enter it in the accounting program. Then we tried to work out the federal 941. Talk about the blind leading the blind! My accounting program pretty much does everything for you. The problem is, Larry had never done one before and I acted like I had never done one before. I kept telling him it didn't matter and what I meant to say is that it would wait because there isn't any money due so there is no penalty for filing late. Anyway, it didn't get done.

Luanne brought groceries over. Once again, she saved the day since my refrigerator was pretty bare.

Larry, Nick, Jeff and I were talking about my predicament. Nick said I shouldn't be surprised about getting lung cancer since my dad had died of it. "Well, first of all, other than my dad, no one dies of cancer in my family," I said. "Everyone dies from strokes or heart attacks," I continued. "At the very least, I thought if I did get cancer, it would be when I was in my 70's. I certainly didn't think I would get cancer at age 51." "That was my reasoning. I took a gamble and I lost."

Later in the evening, Larry and I were talking. I don't even remember what we were talking about, but he told me that this was terminal cancer. I had never thought about that. Briefly, for a few seconds, I cried. I'm not afraid to die. I just don't want to yet. I want to see my grandson grow up. I want him to know me. I want a granddaughter. I want to see my kids establish their careers and see how they develop. I want to see if some young lady captures Jeff's heart and he gets married.

Sunday July 31: Here is the plan for the day. We are going to go the St. Joseph’s hospital to the emergency room. That is were Barrow's Neurological Institute is located. The reasoning behind this is that when you go to the emergency room, they have to accept you without a referring physician.

I talk to my brother and sister. They are planning on flying in to Phoenix tomorrow. I must be dying!!! I also call my mom. She knows I am going to the hospital but I don't know how many details she knows. I just can't bring myself to tell her the sobering news. So I figure it's best to let her believe what she wants to believe. Later I would find out that she knew pretty much everything.

About 1:30 we get into the car and head out to St. Joe's. Everything went fine and we just had to wait for a bed in the Intensive Care Unit.