With less than 24 hours to go before I hit the operating room, I have been doing a lot of thinking, planning and wondering. Even more than usual. This week has been full of firsts and lasts for me.
First holiday with the new guy. First time ice skating together. Yes, Tony skated circles around me. And he taught me to stop. And he didn’t let me fall down. We also had our first day off together. First trip to the coast together. Thanks for letting us bomb by your place and watch soccer, Ken and Nicole!
Friday was my last day of work for several weeks. I may come back to no job or a totally different one. That’s a strange feeling. My boss promises to text me with any important updates.
I had my last happy hour with my work buddies. Last lamb bowl with Paddy. Last lunch at the Sportsman’s Pub. My last macaroni and cheese at the Fanno Creek Pub. It’s the last solid food I’ll have for several weeks, and I enjoyed every bite of it.
I also drank the last booze I will drink for the foreseeable future. RPM at the Sportsman’s Pub in PC. Ninkasi at my baby brother’s house. A red ale in downtown Tigard with dinner, which I couldn’t even finish.
Most monumental of all? This morning I had my last cup of coffee until after surgery. I am guessing that I may not be totally compliant with the recommendation to avoid caffeine for an extended period after surgery. I can be hydrated and caffeinated at the same time.
Nervousness hasn’t hit me yet. I feel like everything is organized. I just need to remember to give the cat extra food and water in the morning since no one will be at the house on Monday after I leave. I’ve got my stuff packed for the hospital, and just need to tidy up a little bit today while “enjoying” my first day with only liquids to eat. Just after typing that, I sliced my finger open while trying to put a knife away. Maybe I should skip the tidying up for now…
Other than that? Just get me to the hospital and let me get on with it. I feel like there are a lot of good things waiting for me and I want to start loving them. (Autocorrect really wants to use loving instead of living so I am leaving it in. Call it a Freudian autocorrect slip)
New boyfriend. New job. New stomach. Is that how it usually goes? Where the fuck did all of my stress go? Why am I not angsty? Who is this calm, happy person who is not worried about anything?
Was I replaced by a Pod Person? Should I actually be worrying a little more?
Do I seem like myself to you?
How ’bout if I confess that I woke up in the middle of the night convinced that 13 had gotten up and left without telling me? Yes, he was right there in bed with me. All I needed to do was reach out.
Yeah, I’m definitely still me.