Is there a certain day of the year on which significant events in your life always seem to take place? For me, the tectonic plates of my life have a habit of lurching violently on August 1.
An example was when I ended my first period of residency in Texas by flying out of the Dallas/Fort Worth airport on this day for New York City, where I was to begin a job in two weeks as electronics books editor for McGraw-Hill. It's no exaggeration to say my life has never been the same since then; I can divide my life into pre-NYC and post-NYC eras, with very little overlap between them.
Recent years have been no different. On August 1, 2004, Di and I crossed into Texas at El Paso as part of our move from Las Vegas to the Austin area. And on August 1, 2005, Di and I closed on our purchase of the Bar Nothing Ranch near Smithville.
It was on August 1, 2006 that I entered St. Davids Hospital in Austin to have surgery to remove my original colorectal tumor-----and when I was released on August 13, I finally understood I was in deep, deep trouble. And it was one year ago today------August 1, 2007------that I got the news the metastasis to my liver had returned despite chemotherapy, and consequently my condition was now "irreversible," a polite euphemism for "terminal." (I like that term "irreversible." It sounds like the title of some cheesy action movie. . . . . . . I can hear the trailer for it now. . . . . . . "Bruce Willis is. . . . . . IRREVERSIBLE!!")
At any rate, I almost fear what today might bring. I think I'll just hide under the bed------the way our oldest dog, Bahrnee, does during a thunderstorm-----and wait until midnight when it might be safe to come out.
An example was when I ended my first period of residency in Texas by flying out of the Dallas/Fort Worth airport on this day for New York City, where I was to begin a job in two weeks as electronics books editor for McGraw-Hill. It's no exaggeration to say my life has never been the same since then; I can divide my life into pre-NYC and post-NYC eras, with very little overlap between them.
Recent years have been no different. On August 1, 2004, Di and I crossed into Texas at El Paso as part of our move from Las Vegas to the Austin area. And on August 1, 2005, Di and I closed on our purchase of the Bar Nothing Ranch near Smithville.
It was on August 1, 2006 that I entered St. Davids Hospital in Austin to have surgery to remove my original colorectal tumor-----and when I was released on August 13, I finally understood I was in deep, deep trouble. And it was one year ago today------August 1, 2007------that I got the news the metastasis to my liver had returned despite chemotherapy, and consequently my condition was now "irreversible," a polite euphemism for "terminal." (I like that term "irreversible." It sounds like the title of some cheesy action movie. . . . . . . I can hear the trailer for it now. . . . . . . "Bruce Willis is. . . . . . IRREVERSIBLE!!")
At any rate, I almost fear what today might bring. I think I'll just hide under the bed------the way our oldest dog, Bahrnee, does during a thunderstorm-----and wait until midnight when it might be safe to come out.