Today marks the day.
Exactly a dozen years ago, at almost this exact moment I type, my life was spared.
It was spared by a skilled, intelligent, young surgeon who took his time to listen to me, was confident enough to ignore other surgeons, and took care of the business at hand when others weren't willing to deal with my "incredibly rare" situation.
Dressed for success in hospital gown, blue drapes, and IV tubes as accessories, my surgeon asked me how I was doing.
"Fine," I said. "Did you get a good night's sleep?"
"Yes," he replied. "Are you ready for this" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "Don't cut anything you're not supposed to."
And with that, he chuckled as I counted backwards from one hundred and fell asleep.
This morning, I opened my eyes and said, "Thank you."