We’re almost there. My surgery is Wednesday.
It’s what we have been working toward all this time. Yet, I am a nervous wreck.
I’m not really sleeping much as my anxiety pushes into my dreams and wakes me up. I’m trying to not let my fear show on my face, but Tony knows me too well.
He can see in my eyes that I’m afraid. Every time he leaves for work over the past week I have cried.
He has to work tonight and It’s 7 AM and I am already dreading him having to leave me.
There’s no way to fix this. I have tried all my tricks. Not even the Ativan is helping right now.
heJust two days now until 12 hours in the OR.
At the end of that day we’ll know more about what the rest of my life will be like and be on the watch for the complications.
Who wouldn’t be afraid?
Father Nick came to visit me on Friday and that helped soothe my soul some. He’s such a wonderful kind man. He is truly what a Christian should be. We talked and he prayed with me.
On Sunday I got to “attend” services at his church via the internet and that helped as well. Prior to COVID and then getting sick I had planned to start attending the Episcopal Church he heads but of course, everything went nuts.
I’ve been through a long time of a lack of faith. I had a large crisis of it, went in the opposite direction and ran from it. A few things have helped bring me back to it and I’m not going to go into that here.
I’m just glad it’s back.
Now, to get through Wednesday and beyond.
Until next time.