A Highly Personal Question of Boldness

On Monday my doctor set before me an unsettling decision. Some "atypical" cells had showed up in a biopsy. Not cancer, I'm happy to say. But cells that are "wanting to become cancer."

So I was to decide whether to have a hysterectomy and remove any risk forever, or have a lesser procedure, something on the order of sweeping out the cells with a whisk broom, and then be closely monitored for the rest of my life.

It took me 23 hours to decide. I was clear when I woke up Tuesday morning: Have the big operation. As soon as possible.

By that time I could also ask myself: in such a situation, is there a "bolder" course, a "more alive" choice? It would likely take more courage to have the threat of trouble hanging over my head forever; but I don't see what I would gain.

The decision I've come to seems literally the one that's "more alive." It's the one more likely to keep me alive longer. My choice now seems to me a no-brainer. Which it sure didn't two days ago.

At this moment, I'm somewhat interested in what happens next. I'm so healthy--haven't been in a hospital except as a visitor in almost 50 years. In the next few weeks, I will probably find out a few things about myself and life that I don't now know. And I plan to rent movies, read a lot, take excellent painkillers, and require a lot of attention.