By Sandi Henderson

Two months later I was starting to feel the changes.

This is it...I'm so scared I could puke but I have not had anything to eat or drink since a can of protein drink for dinner last night...fill out paperwork, go upstairs to pre-op area...get undressed...uh oh- this is my last chance to chicken out and go home...Nope...I choose LIFE...In comes the anesthesiologist and asks me if I wanted something to soothe my nerves.  Chuck is right by my side and we both say YES at the same time.  That is the last thing I remember until waking up in the recovery area with a nurse trying to tell me something about my blood sugar being high.  I tell her I am not diabetic and go back to sleep.  I wake up again to the same nurse telling me the same thing and this time, being a little bit more coherent, I understand what she is saying and agree to the one shot of insulin it will take to straighten out my blood sugar after the anesthesia.  Pretty soon I am in the elevator on the way to my room and the door opens and there is Chuck, always there, always patient, always supporting me in whatever I do.  How did I get so lucky?

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