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OD

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We just woke up.  Slept well enough, snuggled up on Diane’s sofa.  It’s a sunny day and a very lush Taipei is steaming under our window.  We could be on an exciting tropical vacation except for the friendly nurse who just reminded me that this is OD, Operation Day.

I can’t eat or even drink this morning, only brush my teeth.  How many times do you have to brush your teeth before it adds up to breakfast?  I shaved off my three week stubble and a doctor put a dot on the side of my face they’ll be operating on.  I’m dressed in operation clothes, a Gandhi-style sheet.  In a few minutes the nurse is returning to put an IV feed into my hand.  That’s where they’ll put the sleeping liquid in.

I feel great physically.  Strong and healthy.  Not sick at all.  I know I’ll freak out right before the operation itself, but man am I glad this is happening.  Maybe, just maybe, late this afternoon I’ll be cancer-free.  That would make it a one-week cancer — it’s one week ago that I was diagnosed.  Taiwanese medical care has to be the best in the world.

I guess you’ll hear from Diane next.

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