I have bladder cancer surgery tomorrow. I’ve been told what they’ll do, and I have my instructions for washing, sleeping in clean clothes, when to show, what to wear – what I can and drink, when. Anyone who’s had surgery or knows someone who went through surgery is probably familiar with these guidelines.

I’m in a good space for it. Inconveniences abound, yes, and some potential for a life-altering outcome, but I have the healthcare insurance to cover it. Have a team to do it, and a safe place to recover. I won’t need to worry about food or shelter, and my wife is there for me.

I was thinking about how much worse this is for my wife than me. She has to endure the waiting. I mean, if something happens to me, well, it happens. She must deal with the aftermath.

So, I worry about how she worries. I’m anxious about her anxieties.

I asked her, “How are you feeling about my surgery tomorrow?”

She replied, “I feel good about it. I’m not worried at all.”

Which is exactly what I wanted to hear.

No matter what happens to me, I hope she’ll be okay.