I’m not like… Worrying about this surgery.
I mean… I know the risks. I know it’s huge. I know it could end up being even bigger than they expect. I know things could go wrong.
But I’m not lying awake at night worrying. There’s no good in me worrying about it. It’s not like a test when I could worry I haven’t studied enough, that’s a legitimate worry. Or a big meeting I haven’t prepared for. But this is entirely out of my control.
Yes there are things I will be upset about on the other side of the surgery should they eventuate, but I can’t deal with them now. I could start googling how to reconstruct noses in case it’s really bad, but there’s no point in assuming it will be, that just causes unnecessary anxiety. And if it is, it’s surgeons I should speak to, not google.
I had my ‘consent for surgery’ appointment on Friday. I mean obviously I’m going to consent to whatever my surgeons think they should do! I don’t think I know better than them. Do I even want to know all the details of what happens between 8am Monday morning and Tuesday when I wake up? I just want to get through it and see what I have to work with. And hopefully everything will have gone well.
What I have been thinking about this week as I wait to fall asleep is how incredible this all is. How are they going to remove my jaw, tumour and part of my nose all the way up to my eye socket and reconstruct it, all through the roof of my mouth?! How is that a thing?! I mean I trust that they know exactly how to do it, but seriously – how is it a thing?! And how on earth is the body able to handle it?!
I have been constantly amazed by medicine over the last 7 months.
It is a funny thing to think though, that I am putting my life in the hands of these relative strangers, and letting them do to me whatever they see fit to. But I suppose we put our lives in other people’s hands all the time – getting on a bus, plane, getting in a car…
I’m in the best hands. That’s comforting to know. Let’s get this damn thing out.