I’m not sure why but I am in a really crabby, really anxious mood today. The weather has started to get colder and I was excited about that for about 23 seconds until I realized that as the weather gets colder, I am getting closer to my first surgery.
It’s funny to feel so excited about something and so angry and anxious about the exact same damn thing at the exact same time. A little part of me likes the idea of surgery. No, not because I’ll be better afterwards (which, to be perfectly honest, I don’t know that i believe at all [more on that later]) but because it’s something new to do. I find myself distracting my energies all the time now. Trying to find something new to focus on or think about. Surgery is just another distraction, something I’ve never done before. A “what the hell, I have a few months of agony to kill” sort of activity.
I wonder sometimes if everyone thinks like this or if I’m the only one. Probably the latter, though with a few individuals along for the ride.
The anxiety makes sense. It’s what I feel like if I were looking at my situation from a third-person’s perspective, I would imagine I should feel. Surgery is scary and something could go wrong or…worse… Let’s be perfectly clear here. If I die because of this stupid hip surgery my ghost is gonna be PISSED OFF — just generally a really crab who is gonna poop in your yard and scare your kids and steal your goat. I have no idea what the hell I am saying but seriously, the dead version of me is gonna be really annoyed if I die.
I think, though, that the more pissed off version of me would be the one that is either in perpetual pain because of the surgery or who is further immobilized.
I don’t even know what I’m talking about. I guess I’m just anxious about the surgery and the waiting — 66 more days to go.
The anger is just at a myriad of things – my aging, my body, my history, my genetics, my situation, my school. I am so out of control — I feel like I’m riding on a wagon in the old west, in the dark, and the horses just got spooked by a fox and start running but the wheels are made of wood and start to break down and the wagon is literally falling apart but the horses just keep running. I feel like I’m the guy holding the reigns and but who has literally no control at all. Yep, that’s me, right there, with the runaway horses and the broken wheel. Stupid foxes.
Tonight I’m meeting up with some ladies from my “hip women” group who have all gone through or are going through the same thing as me. I am looking forward to that. And to pottery, which is later.
I guess that today, it just feels a little hard to breathe. And to keep it together. And keep moving forward. But I will. Or at least I will try.