Midnight is looming closer

Funny how I never eat after midnight, but knowing that I can't eat makes me want to have a big old Snickers bar with a Kit Kat chaser.

My surgery is scheduled for 11 a.m. Friday and I've turned into a blubbering idiot. I'm literally sick to my stomach because I'm so nervous about this surgery. I haven't been put under anesthesia - completely put under - since I was in college. That time, I remember (vaguely) waking up and screaming out for my ex-husband. Me and anesthesia never got along well. Before that, I'd wake up screaming for my mom. Even my last spinal for my c-section left me hallucinating and talking gibberish. I would have sworn my boys were jumping on a couch in my hospital room and I kept trying to tell them to stop, but the words wouldn't come out. I remember VIVIDLY (ok, as vividly as you can remember something in a drug-induced fog) the look on Army of Dad's face as he realized I was screwd up out of my gourd.

Anyway. I'm dreading it, needless to say. I'm worried about not having the use of my hand for a while, too.

You see, those of you who don't know me may not know this, but I'm a control freak. I am a GIGANTIC planner. I like to know what is going to happen and when and I like to have it all laid out with every possible outcome known. But, just like having children in your life, there is no way to know what is going to happen with this surgery and the recovery. I may be fine and ready to dance Friday night or I may be puking and hallucinating on Sunday.

*taking deep breaths*

I'm also paranoid as hell and a big fat worrier. If there is a worst case scenario, I have pictured it. Oh well. I guess I'll go drag my ass into the tub and try to relax. I have about two more hours of eating time before my little fast. I wonder if burping up bile from nerves counts as eating before surgery? Maybe I can put this off another week. Nah. I just have to suck it up. That is what moms do.