Dan and I came home the other night to this casual message on our answering machine:
Hi Dan & Deb, this is D.
I'm in the hospital.
W. says I woke her up in the middle of the night with a seizure.
She called 911.
They say I have a tumor in the front of my brain.
They're going to operate tomorrow morning at 9:30.
Call W when you get a chance and she will fill you in.
Talk to you later.
So typical of D. He has a calm, laconic, yet friendly manner of speech. To give you an idea of how that message sounded -- he could be telling you that an earthquake just wiped three states off the map, and it would sound like he was suggesting drinks and dinner.
Anyway, D had his surgery Friday morning. The bad news is the mass was malignant. (The same kind Ted Kennedy has.) The good news is that he is so healthy and the dozens of scans and tests on the rest of his body indicate absolutely nothing else to worry about. They removed all of the tumor. But, they know that this kind of tumor tends to leave tentacles behind.
So, he begins radiation right away. The prognosis is good. He was fortunate to be at their winter home in FL instead of their rural small town home in northern Missouri. His neurosurgeon is one of the top ranked in the country. The oncology program is highly ranked as well.
He just called a few minutes ago. He should be leaving the hospital in a few days. Says he has a half-moon shaped incision on his scalp with 50 staples in it. He wanted to make sure Dan knew that it wouldn't be all that long before he'd be ready to play golf again. Thinks we should try to squeeze in a long weekend before spring. Go, D.