As I drifted off to sleep last night, I thought, “this is the last full night of rest I will have for a long time.” I am not counting the hours of drugged post-surgery sleep, something about that feels unnatural, artificial and not truly restful. I am a side sleeper, but I have a feeling I will be spending the next few weeks trying to sleep on my back. Or in a recliner. Honestly, I have no idea what to expect.
And yet, I’m not anxious or scared. Not anymore. I think the two week delay, hard as it was, left me in the let’s-get-this-over-with place. Much better than the this-can’t-be-happening place. I will spend a quiet day at home (which coincides nicely with the ice storm raining down outside), putting things in their proper place, sending last minute emails and compiling notes and phone numbers and things my family will need access to while I am in the hospital. This time tomorrow, I will be in the operating room.
There are still moments when I feel like this is a mistake. A crazy, unimaginable mistake. I wonder if that will ever go away? Acceptance is a hard road. Even as I have slowly come to accept my surgery, the reality of cancer seems impossible. Aside from the fact that I tire easily (is it physical or emotional fatigue, or both?), I feel fine. There are no outward signs of illness. No lumps to feel, no fever, no pain. I am still entirely me.
Thank you for being out there, for the encouragement, the support. I could not have come this far without you. Someone will try to post an update once I’m out of surgery, and hopefully I’ll be back writing my way through recovery by the weekend.