Various people have once again been commenting lately that I'm handling this all so well, that I'm so stoic, calm, etc. I don't want to mislead you guys! a) I mostly am calm, on the surface -- day-to-day life is busy enough that it's a fine distraction. But I present for your edification exhibits b and c:
b) Last night at 2 a.m. I woke up from a dream in which I'd been going in to start the chemo (which I'm expecting to be about an hour-long procedure), but when I got there, they wouldn't let me leave, and insisted on admitting me to the hospital right away. And I was super-upset because I hadn't packed properly for a long stay -- what about my laptop? What about my stack of books? But then they explained that my liver was almost completely necrotized, and they had to get me into surgery immediately. Then I woke up. (Sometimes I think I have not done myself any favors, watching so many medical dramas on tv -- I know too much of the lingo, without any of the deep understanding.)
c) I did go back to sleep, but when I woke up normally around 5-ish (yes, that's normal for me), it was from the tail-end of a dream in which my doctor father said, in tones of horror and despair, "But your cancer is MUCH more advanced than you told us. You're probably going to die soon!" (In my defense, I have been strictly honest with my folks about the diagnosis.)
So -- reasonably calm on the surface, in the daytime. Apparently, night is when my demons come out to play. Dumb demons.