The biopsy is scheduled.  It will be January 14th at 4:30 pm, an outpatient surgery.

Nothing is easy.  There is a Pre-Op Appointment at the hospital on January 2nd.  I arrive with a mid-size plastic bag containing my current medications.  I am intaked, weighed, measured, hooked up to an EKG, blood is drawn, and I have to pee in a cup.

I need to arrange transportation to and from the hospital.  I cannot drive myself.  I need someone to get me there and stay with me until I go to bed that night, kind of like a "designated adult".  My son and daughter-in-law, both employed full-time, will take care of me.

But wait, what's this?  The Pre-Op lab results come back.  My potassium is low and the EKG is irregular.  The surgery is canceled.

I set an appointment with my GP.  She doubles the potassium I am already taking and sets up a "stress test" with the cardiology guys.

The stress test means no eating from midnight, nothing to drink, and I don't have to run on a treadmill.  Instead some kind of "hot shot" is put into my vein and I feel like I've run a marathon while lying flat on my back.  I'm huffing and puffing and saying,

"I give.  I'm done. I'm in distress."

They give me the antidote. 

"Antidote?  What the hell was in that "hot shot?"  

I am still upbeat.  I have kept twelve separate appointments and think I am looking at a harmless cyst.

But there is more to come.