Private Hell.
With my surgery date rushing toward me, I am realizing once again that fear is funny thing. I'm sure everyone has their own way of coping with it that seems to work for them. Frankly, I do NOT have it figured out yet. So, I run the gamut. One moment I am frozen by it. A deer-in-the-headlights kind of thing. I shut down and don't think at all. I just freeze. One can only maintain that state for a moment or two and then the panic usually sets in. Oh-my-gosh-what-have-I-gotten-myself-into kind of stuff. That state seems to be my stand-by. It's not that I am particularly afraid of the pain of surgery. Don't get me wrong. It hurts. It hurts a lot. Pain killers don't seem to do much for me, and I am carrying a lot of weight. Put that together with having your body filleted open and rearranged, stuffed back in and sewed up...it's gonna hurt. But I can sorta handle that. I don't like it, but it doesn't frighten me. And, yes, I think about the risks of the surger...