Today I am thinking about denial. Or maybe disbelief. Tomorrow I am having my surgery, and, for the life of me, I don’t know why.

I mean, of course I know why. There’s this cancer thing in my mouth. And the surgeon is going to cut it out. But I don’t really believe that I have cancer.

I’ve been through three rounds of chemotherapy. And I lost most of my hair. (Thank God I kept my brows and lashes.) But I kind of feel like I am in a cancer daze.

Like why do I have cancer? Okay, why questions are always stupid.

How come I don’t feel like I have cancer? Shoot, what does feeling cancer feel like?

The surgery should be the end of my cancer. I guess I’ll have to be monitored for the rest of my life. Even when this cancer is a distant memory–like my broken ankle that I can’t even remember how long ago–six years? Seven?–it will follow me.

So tomorrow I go to the hospital at 8 am. Surgery scheduled for 10 am. Should be done in about 4 hours. 3-7 days in the hospital. Then 6-8 weeks of recovery. A timeline makes it more real. There is something to do.

I don’t really believe that I have cancer, but I’m going to do the stuff as if I do.

Wish me luck.