Author’s note:  This is a recollection of my events from a year ago.  There is no need to panic.

It is Saturday morning and I wake up still feeling nauseous.  I have a complete lack of appetite but I force myself to go to McDonalds and get two Egg McMuffins.  I can only eat one of them and throw the other away.  The rest of my day is spent in the recliner watching TV as I feel miserable.  Kelly reminds me that I made a promise to go to the ER.  At around 6:00 in the evening I finally shower for the day and go.

Instead of going to the hospital I go to the emergency room around the corner.  Other people refer to it as a “doc in a box.”  It is the first time I have been in the emergency room since I broke my ankle twenty-five years earlier.  The place is nearly empty with only one other patient and their family member attending.  It’s quiet but the staff are friendly.

I explain my symptoms to them.  My weight has dropped into the 150s, I occasionally vomit, feel nauseous frequently and have no appetite.  They are going to run a CAT scan on me.  I spend most of the night messing with my phone waiting for the results.

At nearly midnight they give me the news – they have found a mass in my pancreas.  They want to call an ambulance but I tell them I can drive there.  Orders are sent to Baylor Scott White down the street from me for a direct admission.  I thank them, pay the co-pay and leave.  Instead of going to the hospital I stop at the house first and grab my laptop bag.  I can’t remember if I pack a bag or not.  I may have asked Kelly to do this later on.  I also can’t remember if I told Kelly then or waited until morning.  I likely waited until morning.

I drive myself to the hospital and admit myself to emergency.  It is as eerily quiet as the doc in the box was.  The paperwork is in order and I can go straight to my room.  I am offered a wheelchair but I decline.  I also meet briefly with the doctor working.  This is the first time I have ever stayed overnight in a hospital.

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