[Note: I am writing about the events of the last month to catch you up. It has been a very difficult time and when you don’t have a solid plan, and don’t have all the information, you mind goes to not-great places. Stick with me here … it gets better.]

Wait two weeks?! At least that is the start of a plan.

Thinking about the appointment, I don’t believe that a 10 AM MRI test’s results will get to the team of doctors in time for a 2 PM appointment. Yes, I have faith in the doctors, and no, I don’t have faith in the schedule. I call who I need to call, I schmooze who I need to schmooze, and I get the two tests moved up to May 2, a week before the appointment (which I cannot change). That should ensure the results are ready.

All the awful thoughts start hitting me pretty hard. I really need to get my shit together, as they say “make sure your affairs are in order.” Mine certainly are not, why should they be? I was planning on living forever. My will is rather old (yeah, so am I) (and I bet if you have a will, you have not checked it in a while), I still have some financial accounts “joint” with my ex-wife (divorced … ummm … 18 years ago), and so much more. I don’t even know where to start.

I go into my local bank where I have been doing business for over twenty years. Holding back tears, I tell the manager what is going on, and we talk a bit. We look at all my accounts (businesses, personal, etc.) and I ask that Inanna be added to most of them. That can happen quickly and there is no reason not to. He also gives me the name of a local lawyer who he says would be great to work with on some of the other issues. She agrees to see me the next day.

Ok, I have a plan for the next set of tests, my local banking, and my will. I call my other bank, where I have all my investments, my mortgage, insurances, etc. and ask for whatever paperwork I need to change beneficiaries and make some accounts joint. Oh, and yes, I ask how to remove my ex from some of them as well.

Then I get a dumpster. A freaking 30-yard dumpster, construction size. Stuff does not seem to be as important anymore. Let’s call it a Spring and Fall cleaning.

Yes folks, I got my two minute warning. Here is a lighter take on this, by SingleDad, George Carlin and Robin Williams, several years ago.