Things moved quickly after that. On Sunday, my doctor’s scheduling nurse called and said we needed to do the procedure while there were still operating rooms available. My wife worried about how significantly the procedure would affect my life. But we have also come to grips with the reality that my cancer is not going away. I know there will be a lot of limitations, even if the surgery is successful, but at least I will have some kind of life.

On Monday morning, my doctor called to say the surgery was set for the next day. A pre-op nurse called to go over the procedure: no eating or drinking after midnight, use a special antibacterial soap before arriving at the hospital, plan to stay for at least four days to recover. My wife and I scrambled around the house, preparing to close it up for a week. We were just about to leave for the two-hour drive to the hospital when the nurse called back. She said Duke University Hospital was now requiring the results of virus testing prior to admitting anyone for surgery. They didn’t have a test to give me; just a policy that required me to get one. I contacted my physician in Winston-Salem, but he said the hospital there was only testing patients who had been admitted with serious virus symptoms. Almost as quickly as it had been scheduled, the surgery was canceled.

I don’t know how long it will be before there are enough tests available that someone like me can get one. But unlike other people who might just be curious about whether they are infected or not, I have a clock ticking in my body. While I wait for the test, this cancer could metastasize. By the time they can perform the surgery, it might be a moot point.

I’m not a political person. I don’t belong to either party. For the most part, I don’t care who is running the country, but I expect that in times of crisis that government uses its resources to take care of its citizens. And right now I don’t see that happening.

There are not enough masks. There are not enough tests. There is not enough personal protective equipment for health care providers. When President Donald Trump says there is, it’s clear that he’s not listening to experts and scientists. He may be talking about a few virus response centers, but he’s not talking about most of the country. He’s definitely not giving enough consideration to the rest of Americans who also have serious medical needs.

This virus has already killed tens of thousands of people and infected millions others. We all wake up to stories of overrun hospitals and bodies stacked in refrigerated trucks. The news is horrible. But officials need to know that that’s not even the whole story of Covid-19. There are tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of trickle down cases like mine. When I hear about people who aren’t getting pacemakers installed or getting care they need, I feel betrayed. My whole family is struggling mightily. I worry about dying before I should. I worry about what day-to-day life will look like for my wife. I want to play ball in the front yard with my grandsons and go to their sporting events. I want to resume as much of my life as I can after the surgery. But without masks and gloves and virus tests—basic things that our health care system should always have in good supply—those simple joys might disappear for people like me.