I can't smoke today. Nor can I drink alcohol. Again. For the third time, I am on a pre-surgery diet of NO FUN. I am "banded," as the phlebotomist called it, where my blood is typed and screened and ready just in case I need a transfusion. Which I shouldn't. But, you know, just in case.
I've been to the hospital here more in the past two months than I thought I would ever visit it in my life. I'm starting to recognize, and be recognized by, people. Today, I was helped by a nurse who was there with me on my first pre-admission appointment, my second pre-admission appointment (when my first surgery didn't happen), and now today. "No offense," I smiled to her as I left, "but I hope I don't have to see you again. Here, anyway."
She smiled and rested her soft, chubby hand on my arm. "Me too, honey. Me too. Good luck tomorrow. Again."
After I left, the hospital called my cell phone to tell me to come in at noon tomorrow for the operation. "Now," said the new nurse over the phone, "that doesn't mean you'll get in for your surgery at that point. We just need you to come in, and get an IV in you. Since you can't eat after midnight." Great. So I could be waiting to get in for my half-hour (prep and cleanup INCLUDED) procedure until four in the afternoon. I was hoping that, because this particular rendez-vous with my doc will be quick and incision free, maybe they could squeeze me in first. No such luck.
And, even though the surgery part of this sucks, I'm glad I'm getting it done this way. Because, yes, I could get it done in the doctor's office, with just local anesthesia. But then I could hear, see and smell what they would be doing to my cervix. And I don't want that. I want a nice, deep, unconscious sleep and get it overwith.
So I won't be posting tomorrow. But I invite you to read below this post for a long one I put up today. I hope it sort of makes up for my absence. I'll see you all on Thursday.