I was only in the hospital for four days when I had my surgery. My admitting diagnosis was "CA endometrium." If you've read any of the previous pages, you probably know I was a patient with an attitude, and probably a good attitude. I went into it determined that I was going to do exactly what my gynecological oncologist at Sloan Kettering told me to do, and to recover as quickly as possible. I was going to be the coughingest and walkingest person there. I'm sorry these aren't really words, but they were the terms I used. I was going to be a fighter. I was fighting one of the most important battles of my life, and I was damned and determined to win. The last thing I remember before the surgery was saying to my doctor, "If it's bad, please don't tell my husband. Wait until I can understand and tell me. I just can't handle his dealing with it alone." The surgeon squeezed my hand reassuringly. The next thing I knew, I had had a total abdominal hysterectomy with the subsequent removal of twenty-two adjacent lymph nodes, and the secondary site on my vocal cord had been removed. I was cold...so very cold...freezing. I awoke to a voice asking me what the date was and to spell my last name. I'm not sure how many times the nurse asked me before I responded corectly, but I finally managed to say, "It's January 25th....Wednesday"...and I spelled my name.

Below are the actual journal entries made during those days. I have not changed, added, or deleted anything. If I tried to polish them up now, something would have been lost. Some sentences are not sentences, and some writing may be a bit garbled, but these are copied exactly from my personal journal of January 25-28, 1995.

January 25
Day of surgery. Up early. Played computer games. Everything OK. Better than I had hoped. Feel very comfortable. Doug has been absolutely wonderful. Very bad storm last night. Getting scared. Doug brought me candy and a flower. Probably be a few days before I can eat it. Don't remember much. Doug is writing for me. Coordination gone to hell. My brain is fuzzy. It was rough, but I'm so glad it's over. I was so scared of the bleeding. Not much more to say. I wish this had never happened. Doug brought a box of chocolates."

January 26
Doug is trying to take care of Little and he tries so hard. Poor Little likes the chambermaid named Jean but hides under the bed most of the day and won't sleep on my bathrobe. He needs his Mommy. I love that little guy. I love them both. Didn't sleep much during the night. Much too scared of bleeding, especially when they talked about transfusions and the possibility of going back to surgery. No real food all day - only liquids - that's OK - don't want much. The surgeon was encouraging. Keeps telling me I'm doing fine. It's so hard for me to see much satisfaction in baby steps when I want to feel all well right away. Doug has been so good to me. All the people here have been. A strange day - had a panic attack and a crying jag. Guess this is all OK, but I feel like such a fool. Doug is having supper at Monique's tonight. It will be good for him to be with friends and not be alone at the hotel or at the hospital with me. I never knew this would be so rough. The minister came to visit. She's never been my favorite person, but good to have company come so far.

January 27
Today is the first day I feel human and optimistic. The news is good. The catheter and the IV came out. I had a long walk, a real shower, and some real food. I can wear my own nightgown and bathrobe. The doctor says the surgical drain will come out in a couple of days. My best guess is Sunday. It's still discharging more blood than he would like. My roommate went home late this morning, and the room is already cleaned and set up for someone else to come in. Debby is on her way up. Looking forward to seeing her later. Doug got her a room next door at the Sheraton. She'll be coming home with me for a little while. Hard to believe today is the first day I can concentrate on a book or write decently. I'm trying to rest a while before Doug and Debby come. Doug hugged me and said I needed a Jewish mother to make me gain weight.

January 28
Slept well. Out walking in morning. This should be a good day and maybe the last. The drain came out. More real food - just Jello. Doug and Debby are almost sure to come. Have a very quiet lady with me. Don't know what she's like. I might as well quit smoking - don't even want one. We'll see what the day brings. Went to the Sheraton for supper on a pass. I was with my own people. The cat was there. Everything was so beautiful. Had my first fresh salad and seafood chowder. Didn't watch movie with them. I got sore and tired, but it was worth it. Tried cigarette - couldn't handle it. Drank prune juice - it worked.