Final Reflections

I told you I'd see you when this was over and I was on the other side. Well, here I am. Let me tell you how the operation went, the days in the hospital, and this first week at home. Before Going In I barely slept. Two hours, if that. I spent the rest of the night wearing out ChatGPT with questions: what I could eat, what the pain would be like, how many days, what percentages. Questions and more questions, as if with enough data I could control what was coming. In the mornin

This post goes out one day before the operation. Last week I wrote that I was curious to find out what it would be like to be so close to what's imminent, what's unappealable. Well, here I am, telling you. Saying Goodbye, for Real I'd already started saying goodbye to my clients in the last post. But now it's becoming final. And something happened that I didn't expect: some new clients want to stay. I explain the situation to them, that I don't know how long it will take me t

I always believed that, if someday they told me I had cancer, I'd give in. That I'd freeze with fear, that I'd throw in the towel, somehow. I don't know why I always thought that, but I was very afraid of that version of me. And suddenly I find myself with the complete opposite. I'm afraid, obviously. But that fear doesn't live alone. It lives alongside another kind of strength I'm discovering. It's new territory, and I'm intrigued to see what else comes out of it. If this is