Surgery tomorrow. The overly friendly caller informed me that I should arrive at the hospital at 6 am, having had nothing to eat or drink after midnight. Bring nothing valuable.
I've been through this many, many times. I've been through this exact surgery before, save the iliac crest harvesting.
Still, I am a big ball of anxiety. My heart is racing, my thoughts are jumbled, I'm close to tears.
I've been looking forward to this surgery since the day, months ago, when I found out what was causing the pain this time--and what would end it. (Isn't this supposed to be the dream of chronic pain sufferers--something to end it?)
Tonight, even though my shoulder seems intent on reminding me why I need this surgery, I can't get beyond the anxiety.
I had hopes of getting some cleaning done, packing my stuff, relaxing with some Kung-Pao tofu.
Nope. I just want to sleep and get that much closer to 8 am, when I'll be comfortably numb.