Finding out

June 22, 2006

On June 22nd  I was at a sort of make-shift conference where various software vendors give presentations. Skeptical at first, I met some interesting guys from interesting companies during the usual “breakfast schmooze” over free muffins and coffee. Gotta love the poppy seed muffin.

I’m first to go on stage with the presentations, right after the host gives his intro about the seminar in general. I’m running through my company’s sales schtick, and all goes well. From the questions asked it’s an interesting group, and I’m actually looking forward to hearng what the other companies are offering. At the first bio break, I check my cell phone, and I’ve got a message.

The voicemail is not good. It’s the cute receptionist from Dr. Berjis’ office, saying that she knows I’m in meetings all day, but the doctor really wants to see me that afternoon. Uh oh, what the hell? I’m not a happy camper. I call back and confirm the 1pm appointment. I know something’s not right. Why else would they call and want me there that day? Yikes. I’m starting to freak, and need to leave. My sales guy is cool, and understands. I head home, and then on to the doctor’s appointment.

When I finally meet the Doctor, he seems relaxed and happy to see me. I bluntly ask — is it a tumor? Yes. Is it malignant? Yes. Oh crap. I have cancer.

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