Just My Luck

Dear Mother Nature,

Why on God's green (or soon to be white) Earth did you decided to schedule a snowstorm during my surgery? I'm not too thrilled. I know we have a love/hate relationship when it comes to your gloomy and grey winters, but could you cut it out? Let us compromise: How about you just dump what is supposed to be tomorrow, on us in January? I'll even let you double it? If you keep this up, I have a feeling we can't be friends much longer...

Sincerely,

Ash

____________________________________________________________________

(Ok, but seriously...that's just my luck. I'm not even kidding. And people are spazzing around here. French Toast Warning!)

I always joke I make the worst hockey fan. I hate winter. Well, not completely, but I would hate it completely if hockey season wasn't in winter.

Tomorrow's the (scheduled) day for knee surgery and depending upon who you ask, we're basically getting smacked with 2-9" of snow starting tonight, ending sometime tomorrow evening. I'm rather miffed. I just want to get through this surgery and start to heal. Get over my nerves, get knocked out, wake up, and be on my merry (but gimpy) way. To run again.

The hospital called earlier this morning stating we still are on for tomorrow, I should be at present no later than 6:30am, and a bunch of other fun stuff like no eating or drinking anything after midnight. (Side note: Yes, I will die of starvation.) Surgery is scheduled for 7:30am (a 1/2 hour earlier than the first scheduled 8am), just in time for what could shape up to be a rather craptastic Indiana-winter day.

(As if I wasn't freaked out enough about the surgery, of course Momma Nature had to flex her muscles.)

I'm trying really hard not to freak out, however I'm not the easiest when it comes to things like this. I don't like not being in control, even though I know I have one of the best (and highly, highly recommended) doctors in the area performing my surgery, and well, you can't control the weather. The storm will happen regardless. The surgery will only take 20 minutes (if that), and I know it will take me longer to conk out before and wake up after than the actual procedure. But I'm still uneasy...

I've done my research (thank God for Google), as well as surgery prep, doing my homework of watching animated videos of what is to be performed. It's easy peasy, and I was fine until the anesthesia portion mentioned 'death.' Now before you say it, yes, I know it's a risk and they're basically just covering their asses. But 'out of sight, out of mind,' is something I thrive on. If I don't know about it or realize it, it's probably for the better, especially when I'm rapidly turning into Anxiety Girl (my alter ego).

(Totally me. Just ask anyone who really knows me.)

Then came my favorite question when being interrogated asked about medical history pre-surgery this morning: "Do you have a DNR order (Do Not Resuscitate) or Living Will?"

Sigh. Just stop already. Let me sign the waivers and just get it over with.

Again: I know it's totally a routine procedure, and I'm pretty sure Dr. R could do it with his eyes closed. This is a total cakewalk for him, however the fact that I'm not in control, or I have to be knocked for a loop and eventually unconscious still gets my nerves going...

I'm really trying hard not to freak out. Suck it up, Ash. You can't run without it, and it's not like you've been here before. Well, sort of.

Also, the lovely French Toast Warning isn't helping me in the slightest. (Whoever coined that phrase, you're a genius. Had a good giggle this morning over it.) For those who aren't sure what I mean by French Toast Warning, you know when everyone goes out and buys bread, milk, and eggs before a winter storm? What will you make? French Toast? There ya go...

So, here's hoping all goes well/scheduled. I'm still waiting to hear final totals for snow, but of course living in Indiana, every Hoosier knows 14+ inches of snow means two, and 2+ inches of snow means 14. It can change on a whim, just as anything can with life. (Older Ash is still trying to learn to let go what younger Ash wants to hang on to.) I'll try really hard to quit freaking out. Promise, folks.

Bottom line: I want to run again. The only way to do that, is to just do it.

(So suck it up, Anxiety Girl! The Indy Mini training won't happen without it!) ;)