Ironically, I'm not nearly as freaked out as I was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that...
Don't get me wrong, I'm still nervous and scared. Last night I woke up at about 3:30am and thought, "In about 12 hours, surgery will be over" and I felt so calm. It's going to happen, I can't stop it, I don't want to stop it (because the alternative to surgery isn't pleasant).
I'm still pooping water, and my guts are protesting, rumbling around. And I'm hungry. Wah, wah, wah, whine, whine, whine. Colon preps, it seems, are not ever very much fun. I drank a few swallows of water at about 3:30am, and I'll try not to drink anymore. In my tradition of post-colon procedures, I'm thinking of asking Eric to bring me a Taco Bell bean burrito (no cheese, please!). I won't be able to eat it, but I could sniff it. Who knows? Perhaps sniffing a Taco Bell bean burrito is a previously unknown way to get your bowels moving instantly, resulting in a super short hospital stay!
This morning will be about shaving my damn legs (haha), getting my shit together, and trying not to worry too much. I have my list of stuff to take to the hospital, and I think I'm going to have to unpack and repack, crossing items off. That will be helpful in finding things Eric has been tossing into the bag. The other day he put a hippy dippy happy cancer stories book in there. And yesterday I found a Sexuality and Cancer pamphlet. Isn't he just a riot??
I'm pondering writing "Pictures Please" on my belly. A friend suggested it after I explained to her how I wanted a picture of the tumor and my parts. My surgeon said he would try to get a picture, but that he might get busy (you know, OPERATING) and forget. Obviously my priority is a successful operation, but pictures. That would rock. It would be like the wisdom tooth that I kept in my desk drawer and showed my students every so often when I used to teach 5th and 6th grade. I'd carry a picture of the tumor around and show it off like a third child. Mostly though, I'd like to see what I no longer have. Those guts are mine, after all. I'm a little miffed that they can't be shown to me personally, but I suppose rules are rules regarding biohazard material.
I'd make a goal not to cry at all today, but honestly, that's probably not a reasonable goal. But you know, I'm hardcore. I've had countless ruptured ovarian cysts, birthed two children with no pain medications (and one of those was a pit birth!!!), survived a car accident...I know I can do this.
All right then. I'm not sure there will be time for another update before we leave for the hospital. The positive thoughts and prayers and kind messages are all so very much appreciated. My friends and family have been just so kick ass through this whole shitty cancer thing. I'm looking forward to the time when I can pay that forward.