The Calm Before the Storm

It is now Sunday night. My brother Gerald is picking me up tomorrow to take me to my brother Michael’s house. My bag is packed. I am bringing comfortable clothing. I am bringing books. I am bringing sock yarn to knit into socks. I have arranged for neighbors to watch the house and check my cats.

And I am also bringing with me a hell of a lot of prayers, good wishes, and nice thoughts. Perhaps I should say I am bringing a heaven of a lot.

And yes, I am finally nervous. I am nervous about the pain and about whether I can be on my own when I get out of the hospital. I have been told to ask for pain medication early and often. I intend to. What am I afraid of? The worst-case scenario is that I have to stay at Mike’s or Gerald’s for a couple of days of recuperation. Big deal.

(OK, I am a liar. As a medical writer with more than 20 years of experience, I can think of several worst-case scenarios that would curl your hair. I refuse to tell you about them.)

My mantra continues to be “But other than that, I’m fine.”