It was May.

     At some point, after I met with my cardiologist, an appointment was made for me to meet the man he'd hand chosen for my surgeon.  Little details I can still remember about the trip there.  Same hospital I'd had the colonoscopy and such done, so some 40-50 miles away.  No exact recollection, but at this point I'm sure I was an hour early.  Knowing the hospital as I did, and knowing I needed close parking; time just to get to out of the car and into the building, I made sure I had time.  It was still Hell.
     I did not then have a scale in my house, but can assure that I was rolling with at better than 160lbs of weight.  10 of it water.  My belly was now distended because of it.  I found parking and began the arduous walk towards the building.  It was not fun.  I had the right building.  Of course he was on the second floor, of course the elevator was in the middle of the dang building.  Slowly I rolled.
     The office was warm, it felt comfortable.  Not like the usual hurry up and wait factory feel.  The secretary was a sweetheart.  I had to wait for the surgeon, I assured her it was not a problem.  I met the man.  Unsure of his age, not tall, a little heavy set.  He examined me and we spoke in his office.
     Understand I've only me, so these are my recollections.  No one to come with me for this appointment.  2 beings I can say I always have faith in.  Myself and when I fail, and I do often, God.  No I'm not going religious here.
     Basically the 30 year old valve was going.  He did mention that he even wondered if it had been attached completely correctly.  "We need to replace your mitral and I'm going to tweak your Tricuspid."  No I never did ask about that.  But I still draw a smile when I consider that a heart surgeon 'tweek's' a valve.
     He asked if I had questions and I told him I had only one motto right then and there.
"I either want my old life back or I want the long nap."  He didn't blink.  He'd chosen my life apparently.  Went over the seriousness and all that had to be done.  I still don't remember much.  I was resigned to the surgery.  Probably asked a few questions I thought  pertinent and got answers.  Said goodbye and went to schedule the surgery with the receptionist.  It would be June...well doesn't really matter and you will see why.
     I made my way back to my car.  Aghast when I realized I could have parked on the closer side of the building.  My only thought was making it back to my car.  It took forever.  Stopping, breathing, resting, coughing.  Sometimes all at once.
     Vaguely I recall informing my immediate family; close friends; and my manager.  Then I'm sure I promptly lay down for some sleep.