Surgery is today. I have been thinking of it for months, and the day is finally here. It's set for 12:30 and we've got to be at the hospital at 10:30. I'm certain I'll be nutty so this is a shot at coherence.
My dreams have been dominated by visions of losses of control. Not necessarily specifically medically-related, but there is a fear of putting myself into others' hands. I have always been this way. Yes, I am a Control Freak. Know thyself, right?
I put some stock in dreams, even odd and obscure ones, perhaps more than I should, but I do, and it has been that way since I was a scared seven-year-old who thought she wouldn't fit in.
One recent dream was of opening up a mess kit, you know the kind with nesting utensils, and somehow the flat knife was mechanized and spun. Tried as I might, I could not stop it, and I was becoming more and more afraid that it would cut and harm me. Finally, somehow, I took my eyes off the terrifying spinning knife and cast them on the floor; it was the old, ratty, linty carpet from when we lived in Mineola over fifteen years ago. I somehow flipped the wheeling knife over and buried it in the carpet. It stopped, the mechanism jamming due to the presence of the lint. So it was a happy ending I suppose, but it took damned long for the solution to present itself and, in the meantime, fear held my throat and my heart in its grip.
I know that my surgeon is good. I know that the hospital is good. But there is a nagging fear that somehow this will be the exception, and oxygen will fail to go to my brain and I'll become a vegetable. Or that I'll die on the table.
I cannot help these fears, no matter how much I tamp them down with other activities and concerns and thoughts, beliefs and feelings. And, in the meantime, I also am in the position of managing others' feelings. Sometimes it's all too much.
Guitars and major chords tend to soothe me, so I thought of Sugar Ray immediately. And then when I really listened to "Someday", I got it.
I hope that this is not the end, but stranger things have happened and I am mentally prepared even if my dreams are trying to tell me otherwise. So before I go, and before whatever is going to happen, happens, I want to thank you. Because you really have always been there for me. I could not have gotten here without you.
Perhaps I am sentimental, and overly dramatic. Feelings are sloppy and indulgent and don't always make much sense. But I hope that what I feel for all of you has shone through, even amidst the muddiness of my own fears and phobias and idiosyncrasies.
You have always been there for me. If I have said anything at all, at any time, let that be what is front and center, and remembered.