The clock is ticking.
It's ticking toward three things. 1: my surgery 2: Christmas and 3: the end of the world.
Now the end of the world is supposed to come tomorrow. Which --although it would be nice to be around for Christmas--would redeem itself by eradicating my surgery. I am NOT looking forward to it. Tomorrow I have presurgical testing. My breathing has not been the greatest but I doubt that it is anything that the relatively unspecialized ears of a hospitalist would be able to pick up. My pulmonologist on the other hand, can tell from across the room when I'm having trouble. So the surgery is unlikely to be cancelled because of that. In fact I've been pretty healthy so unless I should come down with something later next week, it looks like the surgery is a go.
I've had more surgeries than you could shake a stick at and more than I can name. I have never ever been so nervous about a surgery as I am about this one. It's not so much the surgery itself that scares me; it's that first week afterward. I will have to get a doctor to agree to prescribe at least as much pain meds as I am already taking. It is highly doubtful they will prescribe more than that. It is somewhat doubtful that they will even honor the dose my pain management doc has me on. I'm scared of withdrawal. I'm scared of trying to maneuver around the tight quarters in my bedroom. I seriously hope I can go to rehab or at least to a subacute care facility like I did last time.
It is the thought of coming home fresh from the OR, having to manage my deck stairs and dealing with bathing and dressing here on my own that has me terrified. If I go to rehab and then I have a home health aide and an at home PT person like I did for the past three hip replacement surgeries, then I will be fine. So. it worked out three times before. NO reason to think it won't work out now, right? RIGHT???
So, Cynthia. Stop panicking. Stop praying that the Mayans were on to something and just relax. All will be well. However. Those of you who recall back to my last hip replacement will recall, that there was a decided infestation of bats in my belfry. Should that occur again...1) Please realize that I respond badly to anesthesia and 2) Please begin to pray that my mind rebounds and recovers...because the chance is there that it could be permanent....and none of us wants that.
So tomorrow I will go and answer a thousand questions; Pee in a cup; hear the nurse freak out about how bad my veins are and watch her dig around in there to find a vein that will yield some blood; Have Xrays of my chest/lungs and talk to a doctor who will decide whether or not this whole thing will take place or not. And then there will be nothing in between me and that surgery except Christmas....and maybe the end of the world.
One can only hope.