Reflections before surgery

I learned last Wednesday that I will have open heart surgery this Tuesday, May 11. There really hasn't been much to do since then. There's a few details: I need a new bathroom, and if I am going to use my computer outside during recovery I need a new patio umbrella.

Support from friends, particularly on Twitter has been astounding, just astounding. It has come from all over the world. I've written a lot about how twitter is best in a crisis, how communities of support form and make a difference. I did not have a clue that I would experience it first hand and in such significant numbers. It has allowed me to spend time chatting, often with humor and always with someone wishing me well. It has been a distraction and it has buoyed my spirits and trust me, that isn't so easy to do in a situation such as this.

I had written about Connie Reece in Twitterville. She's a spunky, compassionate, charming communications officer in Austin Texas who started what was the first Twitter-based health support meme when Susan Reynolds, a Virginian she had never met, discovered she had breast cancer. Connie has had health problems of her own but she doesn't talk that much about her own stuff.

Yesterday, Jeremiah Owyang started a  #Hearts4Shel hashtag supporting me on Twitter. Connie added the cute, downloadable icon for people to use as their avatar. For some reason, when I saw it, tears came to my eyes and I choked up. It is the only time in this entire experience that I got teary.

This experience is nothing at all like it is so often portrayed in the movies. There is no light surrounding my head, no archipelago  choir singing in divine harmony off camera. You just like to do the stuff you always do, speak with the people who give you pleasure and make you smile.

My best friend Charlie O'Brien was dead by the time he was my age. When his time was growing short,  he told loved ones that all he wanted was to have as many good days as he could before he had to leave.

I have no intention of dying anytime soon, but there's something about open heart surgery that makes me reflective, makes me realize that the simple and everyday things are more sacred than we sometimes realize, and that when something happens that irritates us, we should remember the angry words we say to someone may be the last words you ever share. It's important to show your love. There may not be time later.

On the big picture, I have nothing new or profound to add, just yet. That may come in a few days. But I keep thinking of something I wrote somewhere, probably in a blog post but I can't find it.

My generation came of age in the 60s. We tried to have a revolution back then. It was uglier and angrier than the Conversational Revolution we are now experiencing. We had hoped to achieve world peace. Obviously it has not turned out that way.

But my generation did give you the PC and the internet and social media--and oh yes medical technology that can mend broken hearts. We have made it possible for people in a great many places to talk to people from other lands and cultures.

This is the legacy of my generation. If you are younger than we are, then the baton gets passed to you. We took to the streets to shout our messages in the 60s. Now you can just go online and tweet or blog, or YouTube it.

It's more powerful this way and a whole lot more fun.