I feel like I’m on a countdown to Christmas only Christmas day is the most stressful and painful and lonely day of my life. I am two sleeps away from my corrective sleep apnea surgery and it’s pretty darn surreal. I know it’s all I seem to write about lately (just wait ’til I’m in the fetal position in my hospital gown chronicling the second to second excruciating violence going on in my nerve circus of a throat).
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. You are with me. Your rod and staff, they comfort me.” This verse was on my heart today as I strolled beside the flowing waters at Fish Creek in the cool morning air. In these final days before this insane surgery I’m doing all I can to go from lone wolf walking the green mile to man at total peace, surrendering to a better version of me.
I can put things out of my mind like the best of them. But in time everything creeps up and there’s no escaping. Do I stop this thing before it starts? What’s the point of that? I’ll die soon if I don’t do this, I know I will. I can’t keep pushing my luck. I have almost no feeling in two of my toes. I need proper oxygen circulation immediately before things get gangrenous. My heart will agree heartily.
If someone and I mean anyone would knock me out late Sunday night, induce a coma and do the procedure then kindly wake me up on say Thursday I would be forever grateful. I wouldn’t hold any ill will, in fact, I’ll etransfer you handsomely. If I could avoid the terror of this voluntary event I so flippin’ would.
But where’s the glory in that? I’m not looking for any awards but I do know that for real change to take place one must walk through the fire. It’s a process and no matter how scared I may be this will take place.