It’s six days until surgery and I don’t know how to feel. Though I’d like to rest assured, there’s that part of me that is both nervous and noivus, all in the same. One part of me is like it has to be done so I need to just surrender and the other part is like “you ain’t gon’ cut me, fool”. Visions of me dancing around the OR, avoiding the scalpel wielding surgeon slicing through the air with awesome sound effects, IV rupturing and my heinie hanging out of my tooth paste colored gown dress are alive and well in my medulla oblongotta.

The honorable catch-me-up goes as follows: 5 months ago almost to the day, I underwent umbilical hernia repair surgery where the gentle doc inserted a piece of mesh inside my abdomen. Next thing you know, I’m waking up and it’s all seemingly good. Thanks, doctor, I appreciate you.

The next near handful of months, my bod is not liking this addition at all. A hematoma, leakage, moderate to severe pain, 2 antibiotic cycles resulting in long term diarrhea’r, many days of going to homecare for wound dressing etcetera, etcetera. By the good doctor’s own lips, I am “the 1%” in a typically simple procedure. The mesh has been infected this entire time so he wants to slice his way back in, remove the mesh which from what I read is probably all tangled up in my guts and then suck out all the infection. Thank you, doc. I appreciate you.

It is projected I miss three weeks of work and do as little as possible, including not getting behind the wheel. Then three weeks of light duties to follow; no liftage exceeding 10 pounds. With the original surgery, I was out longer. A slow heal it ’twas. And this second time around feels like it has the potential to be.. how you say.. more brutal? Hence my noivusniss.

Noives aside, it’s a hassle and a vacay rolled into one, I ‘spose. A little pain with a little r’nr. Some meds and dressing changes with a little s-l-e-e-p. A bit of “I can’t get out of bed” intermingled with a taste of large windows of much needed writing time. A smidge of feeling stranded at home to the embracing of being stranded at home. What a ride, friend.

This is life. To deal with hurdles well and to overcome them with a splash of joy is a feat in itself but it’s the best way one should live. Scars aren’t ugly (luckily, I don’t have to believe that one as my scars are inside my bell-bell button!).

So in advance, I would like to say thank you, doco. I appreciate you. Let’s drop this mic. Aka let’s.. get ‘er done.

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