Proofed

[muckefuck]

Today I once again came to the realisation that someone I thought might be a friend isn't. I posted a general announcement of monshu's upcoming surgery to Fakebook and over fifty people responded, many of them asking to be added to the e-mail list I'm maintaining for sending out updates. (Yeah, I'm old school that way.) He wasn't one of them. Now, I'm savvy enough to know what a "lossy" channel that is; there's a hundred reasons why someone might have missed one of your posts there and, thus, no reason to read too much into it. But it brought to mind the brief and unsatisfying exchange we had last December when I had tried to breach the subject with him, but once he heard that I wasn't going to be around during the holidays (when he'd be passing through), it seemed he couldn't end the conversation quickly enough.

So I did what I do when this happens and got pouty for about ten minutes. Then I mentally slapped myself and refocused on those aforementioned 50+ who *did* respond and sat down to compile the list. There were some surprises. I really can't imagine, for instance, that the former coworker I haven't seen in something like a year and was never close to is really interested in more details than I'll be making public online anyway, so I'm just going to assume she misunderstood my solicitation and leave her off.

Oh, and since I guess there are some people following me here who haven't heard through some other channel: a debulking procedure has been scheduled for next Tuesday. It will be outpatient, but I'm expecting he'll be admitted overnight for observation all the same. Are we anxious? A little, but mostly we just want the damn thing over with. We're really not going to know where things stand until they slice him open and poke around. Then maybe I'll finally be able to work with a planning horizon of more than a week for a change.

Comments

[dorisduke.livejournal.com]

Debulking, I had no idea what it was so I looked it up. I do hope all goes well, then and the future.

[danthered.livejournal.com]

got pouty for about ten minutes. Then I mentally slapped myself and refocused on those aforementioned 50+ who *did* respond

That's a mental slap I'm getting better at, but still working on perfecting. I'm really good at the pouty part.

Glad things are getting scheduled and done. You're both in my thots (that spelling was good enough for my engineer grandfather, and he lived to be over 96!)

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Sending good thoughts to you and yr husband.

I tend to get furious over things that really Don't Matter when something major is going on in my life that I have no control over. My way of reminding myself that I still have control over something, I suppose.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

I'm prone to this, too, which is how I've learned never to trust my reactions in times of emotional stress. But I still slip up now and again.