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Jul. 11th, 2011 08:41 amIt's Thursday afternoon. We (doctor, husband, and I) have decided to do surgery as an emergency, now, instead of waiting until scheduled date 10 days away.
Interesting note; once the surgery had been scheduled, I started making plans. I told Scott how to do the bills and made up a file with all our account numbers in it - just in case. I told people "I know it's more than 2 weeks away, but I would just feel better if I had arrangements made now" and discussed child care, dinners, picked up things we will be borrowing like a lap desk, tray, etc. Moved games and art projects upstairs so I would have things to do. Told Scott I wanted to have crackers, meds, etc upstairs by the bed so I wouldn't be all pathetic and needy asking him or Jane to run up and down the stairs every time I needed medication or something. Of course, when surgery moved up, it was a good thing I had jumped the gun on all that because we were mostly prepared for my being laid up. Interesting, no?
Anyway, it's Thursday afternoon and I'm now being wheeled on my bed toward the OR. I finally let the word into my brain as a conscious thought. Scared. I'm scared. Clear as day, I see my arms thrusting out, grabbing for anything as we pass it; that cart, a wall, the door, a rail... and screaming "wait! I changed my mind. I can't do this!" I loathe myself for being afraid of anything. Instead, this other me grabs the arms of the first 'me' and peels them from the walls. "If you don't do this now, what do you have to look forward to? A crime scene every time you go to the bathroom? Something that looks like you've been killing small dead animals? Pain? Another blood transfusion before surgery which, let's face it, has to happen in 10 days either way because you can't back out completely."
First me wraps her arms into her chest and realizes she's fucked. She has to trust someone. She has to trust the doctor and his staff who are preparing in the OR right this minute. It's okay at the time, but afterwards, the word trust gets a little caught in her throat. I don't like trusting other people - especially with control over my own body.
Interesting note; once the surgery had been scheduled, I started making plans. I told Scott how to do the bills and made up a file with all our account numbers in it - just in case. I told people "I know it's more than 2 weeks away, but I would just feel better if I had arrangements made now" and discussed child care, dinners, picked up things we will be borrowing like a lap desk, tray, etc. Moved games and art projects upstairs so I would have things to do. Told Scott I wanted to have crackers, meds, etc upstairs by the bed so I wouldn't be all pathetic and needy asking him or Jane to run up and down the stairs every time I needed medication or something. Of course, when surgery moved up, it was a good thing I had jumped the gun on all that because we were mostly prepared for my being laid up. Interesting, no?
Anyway, it's Thursday afternoon and I'm now being wheeled on my bed toward the OR. I finally let the word into my brain as a conscious thought. Scared. I'm scared. Clear as day, I see my arms thrusting out, grabbing for anything as we pass it; that cart, a wall, the door, a rail... and screaming "wait! I changed my mind. I can't do this!" I loathe myself for being afraid of anything. Instead, this other me grabs the arms of the first 'me' and peels them from the walls. "If you don't do this now, what do you have to look forward to? A crime scene every time you go to the bathroom? Something that looks like you've been killing small dead animals? Pain? Another blood transfusion before surgery which, let's face it, has to happen in 10 days either way because you can't back out completely."
First me wraps her arms into her chest and realizes she's fucked. She has to trust someone. She has to trust the doctor and his staff who are preparing in the OR right this minute. It's okay at the time, but afterwards, the word trust gets a little caught in her throat. I don't like trusting other people - especially with control over my own body.
