Here I am at the end of a very long week. I'm drinking and I'm feeling better than I have in a while. Could it be the alcohol? Perhaps. It might also be that I at least got some decent lab results indicating that my risk for ovarian cancer is low. I'm pleased with that. It may also be that my Mom came over and rescued me today and helped me regain perspective. I was having a very bad morning until she showed up.
As my body is forced to relax via the sweet, brown bottle at my fingertips, I am reminded of the sensation that one feels right before going under anesthesia. It won't be long before I'll be experiencing that once again. Under the knife. It's clear to me that my state of mind is less than desirable these days considering I find the idea of surgery as a way to rest. Pretty sad.
I will let go and be at their mercy. I will lay there and sleep while they slice me open. I will be manipulated and cut and parts of me removed but at least I get to rest.
I will wake up in pain. I'll be awoken by countless nurses and poked and prodded but then I'll be able to sleep once again. Three days paid for by insurance. I couldn't pay for a 3-day vacation so maybe this is the next best thing.
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