Wednesday, March 7, 2012

11:39 p.m. about 6 hours pre-op…

I hope the surgeon is sleeping well.  I’m not.  I hit the hay at 10, knowing I had to get up at 4 a.m. to skin prep with sterile scrub pads, air dry, get dressed, and make my way down to the main campus of Cleveland Clinic.  I’m now up for the third time since I crawled into bed.  The wind is howling; the furnace is loud; and I’m suffering from a bad case of pre-operative nerves. 

There is no reason for me to believe that this surgery won’t go well.  After all, people get their hips replaced all the time.  They all swear it’s the best thing they ever did.  And I’m younger than most replacement candidates.  But, the older I get, the more hesitant I am to go under the knife.  In this case, it is an absolute necessity, and I want to say to the surgeon “Call in a few of your colleagues, because as long as I’m going to be under anesthesia, you might as well fix all the other things, too.  Let’s see, a face lift would do nicely, and let’s not forget the bat-wing removal, the circumferential body lift, breast reduction and lift, butt lift, and thighplasty.  Oh and throw in a little lipo where ever it’s needed, okay?”

It is now midnight.  I will head back to bed and try again.  And if any of you readers out there want to send some good thoughts and a few prayers my way for a successful tomorrow, they will gladly be accepted!

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