- General Anaesthesia. This will be the sixth time in five years I am put under general anaesthesia. I hate it. My body fights going under. I have woken up screaming. I have woken up vomiting. I have woken up being restrained by nurses because I was trying to claw my way out of the bed. I am disturbed by the thought of being put under again (and that doesn't even touch on all the "put under and never woke up" story arcs on medical dramas).
- The surgery itself. Things go wrong. Bleeding happens. Infection happens. Bad things can happen when you are cut open.
- The results. I've been told the mass growing on my ovary has about a 2% chance of being malignant. Which is a very small chance, I know. But it took six months to be diagnosed with thyroid cancer and during that six months I was told by many medical professionals I had a 5-10% chance of actually having cancer. Spoiler alert: I had cancer. I find no comfort in numbers right now.
- The weather. Y'all, it has been a long, hard winter. And even as we stumble toward spring, the weather forecast is calling for more snow this weekend. I don't want to miss summer. If something goes wrong with this surgery, my last glimpse of the outdoors cannot be another grey, dreary winter day.
- My babies. This is the big one. The hardest one. I don't know what's worse: knowing that if something goes wrong with the surgery it will mess Grady up something fierce, or knowing that if something goes wrong with the surgery Poppy won't remember me. It's uncomfortable to talk about, and to be completely honest I don't want to talk about it with anyone who is not my therapist, but writing is a form of therapy for me so here I am. I am really scared that something is going to go wrong with my surgery and I am going to miss out on watching my babies grow up. They're the coolest humans I know and I want to hang out with them for as long as I can. I'm scared I won't get that opportunity.
One more week of feelings vomit, lovelies. I apologize in advance. Thanks for being here.