The dreaded day comes

The following Monday, Walt and Barbara woke up at 4:00 am, Walt shaved, the two of them used the restroom as necessary, then they each took turns taking a shower. After quietly dressing, they awoke their youngest and sipped coffee while she showered and got ready, herself. Making their way to the garage, they drove at a leisurely pace because they both knew the procedure wouldn't begin until 9:00 am.

Getting into their modest SUV, Walt drove through the drive-through to get something breakfast for Barbara and Chloe. He, himself, had been fasting and using the occasional enema as if he were prepping for a colonoscopy, except he didn't have to swallow that awful mixture of lemon and cooking oil. He'd been allowed liquids during his fast as the primary goal was to eliminate the need for bedpans as much as they could. A catheter would be thread down his urethra for urination, and a sort of adult diaper wrapped around his bum.

After parking in the long-term parking area, Walt presented himself at the front desk and was escorted to the room where he stripped naked, put on one of those hospital gowns that you can never get to fully close, and not showing your ass to anyone in your wake.

Barbara and Chloe remained outside in the waiting area. The other children joined them there are they trickled in, one by one.

On top of the bathroom paraphernalia, Walt had sensors for an EKG attached to his chest and side, connected to what looked like a big battery pack for a wireless microphone, which was then fed through the front of a hospital robe.

Walt was then instructed to lay down on the gurney, and he picked up his brood on the way to his private hospital room.

On entering the room, Walt had met the orderly who was first began shaving his head with a pair of electric clippers, then lathered up and shaved the remainder with a shaving blade.

"Daddy!" Chloe said in a loud voice, "You kinda look good bald!"

The entire family smiled. Chloe had knowingly or unknowingly broken a lot of the tension in the room.

"Yeah, Kitten, the medicine they're going to be giving me is going to make my hair fall out, anyway, so we might as well do it now."

"It looks cool, Dad," son offered, "You look like that guy from Breaking Bad."

"Thanks, son... I think?"

After almost an hour of family visitation time and a visit from the surgeon performing the operation, a petite, young nurse entered the room, made pleasant chit-chat, and then informed the members of Dee's family that it was time to wheel him down to the operating room to begin the operation shortly. Then, as if on cue, an orderly handed Walt a surgical hair cap (which he thought was odd, since he was now blad, but it's probably just standard procedure,) then wheeled the gurney with the attached drip into the hall, down to the elevator, then down another hall toward the surgery suite..

Each of the women leaned in and kissed their father or husband's cheek, and his son stood ready to provide a shoulder to cry on if needed. Chloe began to sniffle, but Dee shushed her and wiped tears from her eyes.

"C'mon, Kitten," he spoke in a low, calming tone, "None of that... you need to be strong for your mother and sisters. I'll be in asleep for a few weeks and then I'll be home, right as rain. Just you see."

Waving and saying goodbye to each other, Walt was wheeled into the operating room, where the surgical team was getting washed up and prepared for the 2nd of that day's 6 expected surgeries.

Wheeled under the bright lights and surrounded by machines whose purpose was unknown to him, Walt was asked to raise his right arm perpendicular to his body along a board or shelf, and it was lightly strapped into position. The attending surgeon walked into his field of view and introduced himself again, and then spoke to Dee like he's done thousands of this particular operation and he could do it in his sleep, if needed.

While the doctor spoke, a surgical nurse was swabbing a cotton gauze pad of yellow/brown antiseptic under his arm to prepare for the line.

"Nurse," the physician instructed, "You may begin."

A young nurse with a pretty voice replaced the surgeon in his field of view, and gave him instructions.

"Mr. Dee," she began, "I'm going to place this mask over your mouth and nose, and you'll feel what feels like air being pumped in. When it does, I need you count backwards all the way from nine down to zero. Can you do that for me?"

Dee answered in a voice muffled by the mask, "Sure."

"9... 8... 7... 6..."