Originally published April 28, 2022

I have decided that this will be my last blog/story before I go for major surgery on May 5th, and if things go south, I was wondering: “Will you still love me after I’m gone?”

Yesterday, I spoke with an RN for about an hour about the pre-admission.

I learned that the surgery would be at 8:30 AM and that it is expected the operation will be at least six hours in duration, followed by my being monitored for 24 hours in a recovery room.

The RN stressed that it was a major surgery.

Later, I got my haircut at Salt Lane with Rob, my barber and friend.

He said he would come to my home to cut my hair during my recovery.

He made the same offer to me in 2009 during my stage three cancer treatments.

This morning, I was supposed to meet with Norm (the northern one) for coffee, but had to cancel because of the pain I am experiencing.

But he and his wife, Dorean, have been praying for me daily, and I know they are very worried for me.

And so are many other people – including you, my readers.

About a year and a half ago, I was sitting in the family room of my place in Langley, writing something on my laptop, when suddenly I felt a loud, silent voice state: “You’re dying.”

It was not an audible voice – it seemed to come from within me.

It scared me at first, but then I felt a wave of reassurance that flooded my body and spirit.

That experience was something that I only shared with a few of my closest friends – including Annette.

Most people would probably scoff at the revelation, anyway.

I have been trying to get my stuff in order so there are no unfinished things- if go south during or after the surgery.

I have given away much of my personal treasures to my friends and to the hospital thrift shop.

I am happy others will enjoy my former toys and belongings (e.g., drums, records and CDs, clothing, etc.).

Today, I have a tele-consult with the anesthesiologist to prepare me for the surgery.

I hope to find out if they will give me a stomach tube for eating, because I have no other way of eating or drinking.

I previously had a stomach tube for several months during my cancer treatments because I could not swallow.

I have tried to make peace with everything and everybody, and I hope you will accept my apology if I have ever hurt you or made you feel bad.

In closing, I hope that I can survive the surgery, but I do not have the same optimism I usually have.

However, I will never give up.

I want a calm heart and spirit if things do not go well.

Although I will not say goodbye, I thank you for the love and support you have given me by being a reader and friend.

UPDATE: Friday, April 29th

I have received many responses to my story, but I want to clarify one important point. I am not giving up the fight, and I will never surrender to the Grim Reaper.

If things go south, I want to ensure I wrote this one last story; it will be my way of spitting in the Grim Reaper’s face and letting you know I never gave up the fight.

Peter and Alice Hrehoruk

I also wanted to let you know that my best friend, Peter Hrehoruk, had a birthday yesterday—he and I are now the same age.

Although I called him to sing Happy Birthday, I could not complete the song because of the pain in my jawbone.

But Peter is a warrior and survivor (open heart surgery), and our conversation helped buoy my spirits.

He and his wife, Alice, have been great friends, and I will always cherish our friendship.

UPDATE: Later on April 29th

I recently learned that my friends Greg and Ruth Olley are both fighting cancer, and Greg has the same type of cancer as I do.

But as bad as I had it when I was in treatment, in 2009, I only had the stomach tube for several months – but he’s had one now for more than three years!

Although I have not yet met Ruth Olley, I know she is from the Maritimes, and that is all I need to know about her.

She and Greg are warriors, and I know they will live to be at least 100 years old – just like me!

UPDATE: Saturday, April 30th – 7:45 PM

I had a bad day with pain and spent most of it in bed, listening to music and watching Netflix.

Late in the afternoon, my surgeon, Dr. Anderson, called, and we spoke for several minutes.

I asked, and he answered my questions, which were:

When will I be able to talk after the surgery? About 5 days – which is when they take the tracheal tube from my throat.

Will I be getting a stomach tube for feeding? We will be inserting a tube through your nostril and into your stomach.

Will I have to have a catheter? Yes, but we will put it in while you’re under.

Will my mouth or jaw be wired? No

How long will I be in the hospital? About two weeks.

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This is why I won’t be able to have visitors, but I hope to write as soon as possible and will send a message to everyone on this site and on social media.

If you were trying to contact me by phone today, the battery was dead, and I did not realize it until mid-afternoon.

Thank you for the outpouring of well-wishes and support.

My richest and most valued possession is my friends!

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UPDATE: May 2nd

Today is my mom’s birthday – she would have been 99 years old.

She loved me more than anyone else in my life – except for my Grandma Puffer (her mom).

Whenever. I was down; she would give me a hug and lots of love, which took away whatever troubles I had at the time.

My dad passed away in 2001, on November 11th, Remembrance Day.

In June, my dad would have turned 101 years old.

My mom never stopped loving him until the day she passed.

Although he died minutes after I visited him at the hospital in Oshawa, I know he waited for me to arrive from Vancouver so that he could say goodbye to me.

And he was unconscious in a hospital bed for days – but when I came into his room and whispered in his ear that I loved him, he suddenly sat up, pointed his finger at me, and tried to tell me something.

Before that moment, we had never told each other we loved each other, so I know he was trying to tell me he loved me, too!

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UPDATE: May 4th

Well, it is almost showtime, and I am beginning to feel a nervous excitement about my surgery – but without any fear or reservation.

I know that many people are supporting me with love and keeping me in their thoughts and prayers, and that has been a comfort that is impossible to put into words.

I began writing a blog shortly after my cancer treatments ended in 2009 – to share my experience with other cancer patients and as a payback for the love and kindness I received from my medical caregivers.

In hindsight, I now believe I began writing because I was alone and lonely – with only a handful of close friends.

But cancer changed my life and my dreams.

And so did writing my stories. It allowed me to feel I was talking to a friend about my cancer and later about my life.

I also began to walk daily, and within a few months, I could walk three miles daily.

I walked alone and in silence, which made me feel lonely, too.

And then I heard about a walking club.

Joining the Vancouver Venturers Walking Club gave me a new lease on life and many new friends.

I have lived in the ‘fast lane,’ but it was not who I was or who I am.

It was like having a lifetime of ‘one-night stands.’

But I am not lonely now.

I have many readers from around the globe, who I consider friends.

And when I write, it is like sitting across the table from you.

When they wheel me into the operating room tomorrow, I will have all of you and your love in my heart.

Meanwhile, I drove to Norm’s place this morning to see him and his wife, Dorean.

But Norm was alone, so we spent a few minutes chatting in front of a lovely fireplace he had going.

We haven’t been able to meet for coffee these past few weeks because of my pain, but I wanted to see him before I go into the hospital.

As usual, Norm had me laughing. The “it only hurts when I laugh” saying is true, but at least he has never disappointed me in making me smile.

We hugged, and then I drove to the beach for a quick stroll down the pier before I went home.

I posted this photo (live) to my Facebook page, and one of my gal pals asked if I saw any seals or sea lions.

I replied that I had not seen any, but I saw a topless mermaid at the end of the pier!

I am now home and will be going to bed early.

It will probably be my last update until I access my phone on May 6th.

UPDATE: May 5th

I got up at 12:30 AM and am drinking hot water. I can only have clear liquids until four hours before surgery.

Holly Golightly is beside me on the loveseat, and I am watching a tape of yesterday’s Blue Jays game.

I will be leaving for the hospital at 5:00 a.m.

The pain is quite bad, and I will take the meds now.

Speaking of meds, my favorite author has been Hunter S. Thompson since he wrote the classic Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

So, I close this story with one of his famous quotes:

Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, “Wow! What a Ride!

– Hunter S. Thompson

And my own quote is this:

We can’t live in the past, and tomorrow may never come. Today is all that matters. It is your life. Celebrate each and every sunrise with outstretched arms and a big smile. Living with cancer is not a death sentence, but giving up on life is!

– Danny St. Andrews

In closing – please do not worry about me – I will be okay regardless of the outcome.

I am actually looking forward to flirting with the nurses in the hospital.

I also hope to see my gal pal Joy and Fanny, her care dog, during my hospital stay.

We’ll talk soon, and please remember to

NEVER GIVE UP!!!

Dedicated to you, my friends

I hope my stories are a gift to your head and heart.

Hugs and Love,

Danny

Today’s tune from Danny’s library (purchased):

Well, it’s all right
Riding around in the breeze
Well, it’s all right
If you live the life you please
Well, it’s all right
Doin’ the best you can
Well, it’s all right
As long as you lend a hand

You can sit around and wait for the phone to ring
(The end of the line)
Waiting for someone to tell you everything
(The end of the line, of the line)
Sit around and wonder what tomorrow will bring
(The end of the line)
Maybe a diamond ring

Well, it’s all right
Even if they say you’re wrong
Well, it’s all right
Sometimes, you gotta be strong
Well, it’s all right
As long as you got somewhere to lay
Well, it’s all right
Every day is judgment day

Maybe somewhere down the road away
(The end of the line)
You’ll think of me and wonder where I am these days
(The end of the line, of the line)
Maybe somewhere down the road, when somebody plays
(The end of the line)
Purple haze

Well, it’s all right
Even when push comes to shove
Well, it’s all right
If you got someone to love
Well, it’s all right
Everything’ll work out fine
Well, it’s all right
We’re goin’ to the end of the line

Don’t have to be ashamed of the car I drive
(The end of the line)
I’m just glad to be here, happy to be alive
(The end of the line, of the line)
It don’t matter if you’re by my side
(The end of the line)
I’m satisfied

Well, it’s all right
Even if you’re old and grey
Well, it’s all right
You still got something to say
Well, it’s all right
Remember to live and let live
Well, it’s all right
The best you can do is forgive

Well, it’s all right (All right)
Ridin’ around in the breeze
Well, it’s all right
If you live the life you please
Well, it’s all right
Even if the sun don’t shine
Well, it’s all right (All right)
We’re goin’ to the end of the line

Songwriters: George Harrison, Tom Petty, Roy Orbison, Jeff Lynne & Bob Dylan

Here are other songs I’m listening to: These Songs Will Make You Smile Today.