Well there are some really stressful things about being busy, and some really helpful things about being busy. And things have been crazy busy here. Preparing to check out of life for 5 days is challenging enough, but if those 5 days fall right before Christmas… yeah, I’ve been in hyperdrive the last couple of days. And I’m not sure that’s been a bad thing, to be honest. It means I just haven’t had the luxury of sitting around worrying.
I’m also pretty pumped to do this thing. Don’t get me wrong – the procedure creeps me out tremendously, and I am not excited about being hospitalized with a radioactive bottle cap implanted behind my eye for 5 days – but it’s the first step in fighting this thing. And it feels good to fight. After two weeks of thinking, worrying and waiting, we are finally doing.
I was told my surgery would be at 2:00 tomorrow, but I just got word from Mayo that I have to report for duty at 8:30. That seems ridiculously early, so I’m hoping that means my surgery is earlier. I can’t eat or drink anything after midnight tonight, so an earlier surgery time would be nice. Which also leads me to warn you: if you get any desperate calls or texts from me tomorrow begging you to bring me food or a water bottle or anything – DON’T DO IT. Tough love, friends. You can do it.
So what’s the deal with the embargo on food and even water? Well, this may fall under the heading of “TMI” but I have a wee little problem with anesthesia – I barf. Which is only a mere inconvenience (and sometimes a mess) with other surgeries, but apparently when you have stitches in your eye, throwing up is very bad. So no food, no water, no anything after midnight tonight, and in addition they assured me that they will be including “the 3 best anti-nausea meds we have” in my IV cocktail during surgery. So as silly as it sounds, prayers for no yakking would be appreciated. We need this surgery to work.
I’ve had a lot of questions about visitors. Yes, I’m happy to have visitors, and visiting hours are 8am to 8:30pm. I’ll be at St. Mary’s hospital in Rochester. A couple things you should know, however:
1. Rochester is almost an hour and a half from the Twin Cities. I don’t expect anyone to make the drive – I mean, that’s a long day. You can always come visit me when I get home.
2. If the weather is bad, 52 is not a road you want to be on, so please be safe and stay home. I like you all better alive.
3. I mentioned this before but will repeat: no visitors under 18 or pregnant women. I will not be responsible for glowing children.
4. I was told that if I want to wash my hair it will have to be done “beauty parlor style” in the bathroom sink. Therefore, if you do visit, don’t be surprised if I ask you to wash my hair. No, I’m not kidding (but you are allowed to say no).
5. And this is probably the biggest one: if you plan to visit, please text, call or email me to let me know when you’ll be there. I intend to take as many walks as I’m allowed and able, and it would stink if you made the drive all the way to Rochester only to be told that I’m “somewhere in the hospital”. So let me know and I’ll make sure I’m in my room (and I’ll have my shampoo ready…)
So, hopefully the next time you hear from me I’ll be in the process of radiating this tumor to oblivion (I told my radiation oncologist he has my permission to use extra, just for good measure). Am I nervous about tomorrow? Not yet, but I haven’t really paused to think about it. I’m sure I will tonight. Nighttime is when all the distractions leave and I’m left with only my thoughts and worries and what if’s. But tomorrow the battle starts. Please pray for my warriors: Dr. Pulido, Dr. Holm, Dr. Chen and the rest of my army in the OR. And please pray for Rich and the kids.
Speaking of prayer, I am simply in awe of all the prayer support we’ve received. We are so humbled and grateful. And all the calls, emails, texts, cards, flowers, goodies, meals, hugs… thank you for reminding us in ways big and small that we are not alone in this.
Until tomorrow’s “glowing” report…