Not being in control scares me. I hate saying to my friends that I’m unsure when I’ll feel well enough to make plans. I hate not knowing when I’ll be able to take my dog for a walk. I hate passing my work over to someone else to do. I hate the fact that everything is up in the air, my head hurts.
I care more about this than the operation itself and the pain and how I look which is insane. Perhaps I should be more concerned with me and getting better and the op being a success. It’s warped and pretty fucked up. When did I become this person? I think maybe two years ago when I was diagnosed things changed. I lost all control of the life as I knew it and from then on I needed control over everything in my life.
For once I need to take a deep breath and LET IT GO.
My pre op assessment went well. So much information to take in. There will be ten people in the operating room. 2 will be operating on me at the same time. The first night I will be off my tits on morphine and in intensive care. (Haha pardon the pun)
I’m frightened and I feel nauseous thinking about being cut open. I will have 3 drains. They are to collect fluid and blood and fat from incisions. Not pleasant but a must.
No turning back now.