Whenever I'm in need of a distraction; something to occupy my mind other than anxiety, I head to my kitchen. And lately I've been in the kitchen a lot. You see, tomorrow morning, I check myself into the local hospital for a minor day surgery. Well, that's what the physicians call it. I call it ohmygodyouaretakingmygallbladderoutofmybody day. I've known for quite some time that the surgery was impending, but given that I've never even had a tooth pulled, tomorrow holds a whole bunch of unknowns for me, and I'm kinda sorta freaking out a lot. Don't get me wrong, I know I'm terribly lucky to have never before needed an extended hospital stay. In my almost 40 years of life I've only sprained ankles, had the occupational cuts and burns and bruises, a couple of root canals and a broken heart. Oh, if only there was a bandage for the latter. I've gone through life fairly unscathed, and tomorrow that record is up. Tomorrow I get an IV and anaesthetic for the first time. That alone is giving me the heeby jeebies. The procedure itself sounds short and simple and I can kind of wrap my brain around that bit. But then there is the recovery and the pain and reduced mobility for awhile. I have no idea what to expect from this whole situation and for a control freak like me, it's scary as all heck. I've been tempering my fear with bouts of yoga and cooking, and find both processes meditative and soothing - something to steal my brain away from worst-case-scenario-land.
But if you've ever had a gall bladder attack, you know of which sweet hell I speak. Having that knife-stabbing pain gone for good is going to be quite awesome. I just have to get through the next several days and my over-thinking ways. And now I'm rhyming. Let's move on to the soup!
