For the last week, Ed has been motivated to stretch his activity level. He's got more pep in his step and has been going to work for a few hours during the day. On Tuesday, he attended the Town Council meeting. As Chief of Police, he must rely on a municipal city council to approve or endorse recommendations - from budgets to hiring, firing and disciplining employees. Since he is elected, the council cannot fire him, but some on the council would rather be rid of him, nonetheless. The most recent ploy was to put forth a referendum that would allow the citizens to change the structure from an elected Chief to an appointed one. This ordinance blew up in their collective faces, strengthening Ed's popularity, or at least galvanizing his support. While those meetings have often proven to be stressors and triggers for frustration and anxiety, being able to attend and "show up" for the potential battle is, in and of itself, a plus. No one wants to fight the political nasties, but there's something to be said for having the hutzpah to face your detractors. He fights on two fronts - the power grabbers and the cancer.

Our friend, Sandy has been a great source of encouragement to me, and Ed received a box of cigars yesterday from her. I asked if he had smoked one yet, and his reply was "No. I'm saving them for special occasions." In some kind of weird way, I took that as a sign he was "looking forward" to some special occasions. We talked about having a "date night" this weekend, something that we have not had since our anniversary in July. I'll count that as a "special occasion".

My recent doctor visit for my diabetes went very well. I presented him with a printout of my blood glucose readings taken from an app I have on my phone. I log everything and get a daily/weekly/monthly analysis. He was super impressed.

So, I have a vision of my upcoming surgery. We all know that hospital regulations require a wheel chair for patients being discharged. I visualize a nurse walking into a hospital room to find Ed dressed and sitting on the bed with a suitcase at his feet. He insists that he doesn’t need help to leave the hospital. After a chat about rules being rules, he reluctantly lets the nurse wheel him to the elevator. On the way down in the elevator the nurse asks him if his wife was meeting him. 'I don't know,' he says, 'She's still upstairs in the bathroom changing out of her hospital gown." (Disclaimer: I read this somewhere, but I identify with it, so I'm claiming it!)