Everything went great! She’s out of surgery, and I should see her within the hour.

Thank you for your thoughts, prayers and kindness.

I need a nap, a good cry and a strong drink. All at once or in any given order.

I would be grateful for any kindness, thoughts, prayers and good vibes you would send my wife’s way tomorrow. Surgery in the AM.

I realize that I pray too much to consider myself an agnostic.

The surgery is tomorrow.

I’m doing my damnedest to stay calm.

Long Ramble Ahead

On Tuesday, the missus will be going in for another surgery. Specifically, a hysterectomy and a oophorectomy. This is the removal of the uterus and ovaries. This is, in part, part of her cancer treatment plan, and part elective.

Her particular kind of cancer is fueled by estrogen. So, removing her ovaries removes the source of estrogen. This also opens up future options for cancer treatment as needed. There is the possibility that current treatments could grow less effective, so this is, in a way, keeping an eye to the future.

The hysterectomy is elective, and will remove any possibility of uterine cancer, which at this point, is a huge peace of mind. This is, obviously, a different eye to the future.

Writing this out doesn’t bring me much in the way of calm, not as I’d hoped. Assuming it’s posted, you’ve got to figure I’m hoping for something. Maybe it’s just to get it out. Maybe it’s to share this, so should someone see it, they’ll know there’s someone else going through something similar. Maybe it’s just to get the words down so that the pressure lessons.

I don’t know.

I do know that however hard this may be hitting me, it’s hitting my wife so much harder. I don’t know that I can ever really know exactly how, but I have to trust in that truth.

It is another surgery, another thing, another step towards the next fucking step. We keep hoping that 2015 is the Year of the Boring, that it will amount to very little, that we’ll get to do very little at all. To be bored is to be happy. To be bored is to feel sane.

We’d long agreed that we were a one child family, but the coming procedure puts such a tremendous, weighted finality on that decision. But it’s helped us realize that if we choose to grow our family, there are a wealth of options. Surrogacy, adoption, more dogs.

If I’ve learned anything from my time on Tumblr, and from the lives and wisdom of those I follow, it’s that a family is what you build and grow. A child doesn’t need to be blood in the strictest sense, not to be your son or your daughter. You all have taught me that, have shown me that, and I hold that close. I hold it dear.

I want and hope and beg for some respite for my wife. She has been through hell and back and hell and back again, and it isn’t anything I get to be typically male about and fix. But ain’t that the way of things? You very rarely get to get hands on with so much. You must be hearts on. You must be present.

Even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts. Sometimes you don’t get to do anything except be present when it hurts the most.

I think maybe this did help. I can’t quite ay how, but I feel that some of the pressure has letup. And though that may only last until the next time it gets hard, that’s enough.

That’s enough for now.

OK, back to the detective story. Rereading it to get back into the mindset.

Shifting from some dark stuff to a light, fast paced story may require some mental gymnastics.

Hand Me A Wooden Stake

277 pages.

98,391 words.

Waiting on a few other moving parts, but I’m pretty much done.

Thank goodness.

I am currently channeling my inner Joe Abercrombie and Jim Butcher as I overhaul some action sequences. Them dudes are gooood.

I have 40 pages to go.

Creeping on a come up for real, yo.

Just think, one day you’ll be able to say, “I knew him when he was spamming my dash.”