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I need to make an apology to all.
They told me the surgery was on Monday the 14th.
I'm sure that sometime during the last three weeks one of the doctors has made it plain that Monday doesn't fall on that day of the month, but when the brain is slogging through morphine, percaset and neurontin sometimes the Atomic Table is more recognizable than one's own name.
Yes, they'll transfer me from my comfy little hospital bed to the O.R. gurney at 8:00 A.M. tomorrow.

Over the last two nights we have managed to convert my room bed into a dream of comfort with warm air blowing through cells in the mattress designed to maintain a constant pressure in each one. This is the modern epitome of comfort for patients who have back and/or hip problems. The first night I slept on it the port side sprang an air leak, and I woke up at 2:00 A.M. feeling like that dream mattress had turned into a concrete slab. The broken femur occupied and filled my world.
We fixed that only to have a repeat the next night on the starnboard side.
We finally got the whole problem solved by changing out the entire bed. I luxuriated in comfort last night. I really did NOT want to get out of my bed to face the world this morning.

The tumor has been reminding me of it's presence the last two days. We've cut off as much of it's food supply as possible, and that made it very angry.
I've been running a low grade fever, and as it dies, the body has to absorb and discard the waste products.
The short story is that I feel like I have the flu.

I doubt seriously that I'll be able to make a post tomorrow, friends. It's a five hour surgery so I'll be out of touch with the world most of the day.
If I regain consciousness at any time tomorrow, I'll make a post to let you know how it went.
Faith will be with me all day so if I can't post, I'll get her to make one for me.

Now, I'm going to catch up on some sleep in that luxurious bed while I can.
Thank you for your prayers, friends. I love you all.