The sky fell in.

Friendly readers. yesterday shit got real. Or, to quote SF writer William Gibson, the sky fell in.

At about 6:30pm last night, I was crying hysterically in my car in the parking lot of the parking lot of the HEB at the Arboretum. I had stopped in to get a few things on the way home and to see my son (he works there). He wasn't working. I don't know why, but that led to the aforementioned breakdown. Nothing was right, nothing was ever going to BE right, and 25 or so hours later I'm still on unstable emotional ground. I would conjecture that I am not as blase about this whole tumor thing as I have seemed to be, (Greek chorus in the background: "Gee, you THINK?") And, to be honest, this is not the only serious stresser in my life, so...yeah. Things fell apart, the center did NOT hold, and anarchy was loosed upon the world for a time. I still don't know if I'm OK. I'm trying not to pretend I have to be.

Appointment today with the ophthalmological surgeon and his army of subalterns; one nurse and one assistant doctor. My eyes are in great shape except for that tumor thing. I have developed peripheral double vision in the last two weeks, so that's new; the doctor explained it by using the anaology of two tracking cameras that aren't quite synced any more. I did find out today that this will be a craniotomy; they're going in through my noggin, so I'm getting my head shaved. I'm having that done by my barber, the redoubtable Louis. If anyone's making me look like Uncle Fester, he is. (And if you're in Austin and looking for a place to get your hair cut, I can't recommend him enough. Corner of G Just north of Airport on Guadalupe; any of the barbers are brilliant. Tell them Mister Duke sent you.)