Today has been a total whirlwind.

I received a call this morning. My surgery is happening tomorrow.

I didn't even know where to begin with the list of tasks I had planned on doing before I would get sick. I ran around buying snacks for Nigel, cereal for his breakfasts (Cereal! We don't do cereal.), shinguards, kneepads, birthday gifts and a book. I also had to buy clear liquids for myself. 

Yes, I've been powered by clear liquids all day. And MiraLAX. 

I drank two doses of MiraLAX, once at noon and once at 3:00pm. Considering all this input, there has hardly been any output. I'm thinking about drinking a third dose of that swill.

Originally, I had wanted to do a colonic and it was approved by my doctor. But the next opening turned out to be nearly two weeks away--apparently Portland likes its colonics--so now I'm stuck with the MiraLAX (I can write about this; after all, I'm having surgery through my vagina).

Around noon, I ran into one of my neighbors while carting bags into the house. And before I knew it, three of my dear, sweet neighbors were vacuuming, sweeping, mopping, wiping and scrubbing our upstairs, downstairs and basement. One even cleaned our bathrooms--bathrooms that are constantly violated by the unruly urine of a boy (Thank you so, so much Ashley, Marisa and Summer!!!).

And then everything came screeching to a halt. 

I received a phone call from Good Sam, the hospital of my scheduled surgery. An out-of-network hospital. The employee read a disclaimer that the surgery would cost $31,000 and there was no guarantee that Providence, our insurance, would cover the cost. Whoa!

I immediately called our insurance broker. She went to work sorting through the paperwork labyrinth and made several phone calls on my behalf. Providence will cover $18,000 of the out-of-network costs, but there's a specific form that needs to be approved, allowing out-of-network doctors to have part of their services covered by an out-of-network provider. There is no guarantee that this will happen. We might get stuck paying $13,000. And the soonest available surgery date for our in-network hospital is one week away. When post-surgery recovery is factored in, I wouldn't receive my first chemo infusion until mid-June. I need it now. 

But then our insurance broker said some truths that made all the stress and anxiety melt away. I need this surgery now. The cost doesn't matter. I would pay that much for Jason. He will pay that much for me. I need to focus on myself, meditate, sleep well. She will work to reduce the costs--like a motherfucking pit bull. 

All these amazing people who are poised and ready to support me and Jase has been so overwhelmingly beautiful.

And all the Dudette ever wanted was to have her chemo...