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I just called in to find out when they want me in. The surgery is scheduled for 7:30 in the morning. I need to be there at 6.
My nerves, which have been a constant shrill background noise for the past week or so, have just ratcheted up considerably. My stomach is acting like an aspiring flamenco dancer. Why is it that when I'd most like to slip away from the impending reality, my chemistry insists that I feel everything so much more acutely?
I can joke about it all I want, but the fact of the matter is that medical stuff terrifies me in general. Tomorrow petrifies me in particular.
My hands are shaking. Tears are threatening.
Dude. My anxiety can shut up now, please.
I could use a hug.
