T-minus 73 Days

Today, as I was riding on the subway, I realized for the first time that I am having PAO surgery.  Not “Hey, yea, sometime in the future someone is, like, hypothetically going to break my hip and I am gonna have surgery, no big deal” but more like, holy shit, someone is going to break my hip in the foreseeable future.  And they’re gonna do it three times.  And I’m gonna be in the hospital.  And totally immobilized.  And it’s gonna suck, a whole lot.  Oh, and I can look at a calendar and it’s 73 days away.

Not sure why it never really struck me.  It’s not like I don’t know its coming.  It’s more like I can’t believe that it’s coming…for me!

I’m sure it’s gonna get a lot more real soon, like when I have to buy my raised toilet seat or shower chair or grabber.  Or when I kick myself for not doing a better job of losing weight and have to KILL myself to drop 10 pounds asap (that is basically now).  But for right now, 73 days seems still far enough away that it has the veneer of ‘not so soon’ yet the reality of ‘not far enough away to ignore anymore.’

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