Meredith's Musings

It’s here. Tomorrow’s the big day.

We’re ready for this surgery. Get this thing out of me already so I can go on with my life — and so all of us sitting on pins and needles can finally move on.

The food stuff? Settled. I’ve made chicken broth and bone broth, both frozen, stacked and ready. I’m pretty sure I’ll be discharged on a pureed diet, and that’s fine. The anxiety has shifted into a new place: I can do this. And maybe one day I’ll even write a Whipple Cookbook out of all this.

Chemo? Also settled in my mind. We’ve done it before. We’ll do it again if we have to. No questions. But here’s what we’re praying on: three little words — Low Grade Dysplasia. If it’s that, it’s still pre-cancerous. And in the words of Dr. Merchant:

“No cancer. No chemo.”

So yeah, Go Low Grade Dysplasia!!!!

Justin has read all the serious stuff — the paperwork, instructions, legal documents. Power of Attorney, Health Care Proxy, Living Will. All filed and sitting at the hospital. He’s my primary caregiver, and he needs to know every detail.

As for me? Drinking chicken broth, and just took a bottle of magnesium citrate. Not tasty. Really not tasty. But it is what it is.

Everyone’s been so beautiful to us — the calls, the texts, the love notes, the best wishes. I feel it all. I love it all. I’m so blessed.

That’s it. Nothing more to tell. 12 hours and counting.

See you on the flip side.