First, it’s time for me to face it: pre-surgery skin prep. It’s true, I must undergo a minor intrusion into the continuous surface of my epidermal (ugh and deeper) layer(s), to correct a thing that I have going on, but have been dealing with on my own for way too long. I tend to do that, deal with it, but then I shoot myself in the foot as you may recall. It really is considered minor and I should be home in a few hours after they cut me open, and I have the best guy friend around to sit with me and take me home, and I will be fine.
And I have off the entire week, because my work is just a freakin’ God-given gift right now, believe me. I am not married to it, of course; it is just a job. But, they are good to me and I to them. It has turned into a sweet deal and a metaphor for a miracle.
They let me take as many mail tubs as I wanted for moving. Most are empty now and the kitchen is done (except for something I cannot quite put my finger on). But it is good for now.
I found a nice hutch on my route from Mrs. D*****, that she was getting rid of. I snagged it for $25 and they let me load it into my mail truck and bring it back. Then a buddy (I hope you caught your limit in Walleye this weekend!) helped me bring it to my place in his pickup. Thank God, he drives a Ford!!! And there’s more, about work, and about all of it, but not now.
So, I will have time this week to recover from whatever.
But I will be unconscious for a while tomorrow, and I have never had that done to me before. Sure I have done it to myself when I was stupid, but these days I want to be aware of everything. I am okay, however, with not being aware of a scalpel slicing into the skin on the right side of an area far below my waist and I can imagine now that there will be blood and a suction device and then there will be a mesh inserted and some sutures and then some glue and lots of clean up and Dr. Lee will be serious and focused and the anesthesiologist will be monitoring my vitals, and I gotta remember to tell them that some of the usual pain medications just don’t seem to affect me, and I am okay with pain anyway, but I also need to listen to counsel and probably take whatever drugs they give me, and thank God for the nurses! who will be there. More than one of them, I know, will be there at, I am guessing 11 a.m. cuz I have to report by 10:15. Ooooh, it would be great if the first incision occurred at 11:11.
And the Dvorak, Symphony #9, just concluded, and I am ready, aren’t you? For a new world . . .
So, God, I am counting on you to make paths straight, as you are doing—to my overwhelming gratitude—and as for the rest, I have no idea. That’s a lie. I have ideas. God, may they be yours too, and then the idea that I do not have, really truly I don’t but want to, well then it’ll all just become part of your Flow.
Okay, time to open packet number one labeled “2% chlorhexidine gluconate”, and start wiping.
Haha, now it’s Schubert’s “Unfinished” symphony coming on the radio, and I am so tuned in. Unfinished, no kidding!
Time to kill some bacteria, before they have a chance to kill me.
I’ll see you in post-op . . .