Everybody keeps telling me to get a good night's sleep tonight, which is so sweet and all but it has me wondering... does it matter? I'm getting knocked out tomorrow at some ungodly hour of the morning, I'll be under anesthesia for like 7-8 hours, and then I'll be on some pretty good pain drugs for a few days. Will good sleep tonight really do me any favors?
My instincts tell me to just stay up all night and get work done, clean the house, get stuff organized so when I'm home and unable to do anything, it won't bug me...LOL.
I worked yesterday (and in my line of work, I'm up holding heavy equipment, on my feet for 9-10 hours). When I got home, I was so ready to just CRY of shoulder pain. It radiated down my left arm this time, too. I'm glad that yesterday was painful, because for the past few days I've been doing a lot of thinking.
A few months out, even a few weeks out, this whole breast-reduction-tummy-tuck seemed like such a genius amazing idea. Everyone should be so happy I'm doing this! Fast forward to the week of the surgery-- when the reality of being cut up and sewn back together creeps up on you-- and your mind goes into panic mode.
It isn't helpful that it's right before halloween, and there are sewn-up creepy looking zombies everywhere. Oy.
So Thursday and Friday I was kind of calculating in my mind... how much of that money would they give me back if I cancelled? Is this shoulder pain realllly so bad? Is this necessary? Would my mom be proud or roll her eyes at me for doing this?
I was getting cold feet, people.
Yesterday's ride home, in the hot-knife-between-shoulders pain, was proof positive that yes, this is the right decision. Tonight I went to dinner with the family, to Hooter's, for a tongue-in-cheek celebration, my last night as a lady with big hooters. We sat down at an available table, and my daughter pointed to the paper towel holder on the table. It's a home-made looking block of wood with a stick, so nothing hugely fancy, but there on all four surfaces of the wood block someone had written in black sharpie, the name Monica, and hearts.
That was my mom's name, and honestly it's not a really popular name where chicks at Hooters are concerned. So hey, kind of cool, and I feel like it's a cute little sign from her or God or whatever. I like to think she'll be watching over me.
I'm up getting the last few things done that I need to try and get done before I can't work a while. Unfortunately there are a couple of things I won't be able to get done unless I stay up all night, but I don't want to do that to Mr. Right. I want to lay down with him and have a nice cozy night's sleep and be happy and snuggle since I figure that's something that also won't be happening for a while.
Family first. I do really have a motherly/friendly love for some of my clients, but my husband holds my entire heart in his hands.
Here we go. If I can post from the hospital tomorrow I might, otherwise you'll hear from me when I'm coherent enough to post. I apologize in advance if there are any obscenities as I describe my pain, LOL... I'm laughing now, but I'm pretty sure I won't be post-surgery ; )
Say a little prayer for me, and for Doc. He's probably done this a million times but as someone who's also done my "job" a million times, I know that rough patches and difficulties occur. If doc hits any snags, I hope he's able to easily pull through and work it out for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment