Barely slept last night. I want to blame it on anxiety, but I think it was equal parts physical discomfort. I hate sleeping on my back, which is my only option. Good thing I have a super solid nap/unconsciousness in my future.
I think there might be a conspiracy about not being allowed to eat or drink before surgery. I mean, people on their way home from roast beef sandwich eating competitions get in terrible car accidents and need immediate surgery. Have you ever heard of them having issues with intubation for their immediate surgeries?
I think they withhold food and water from us so we are starved into submission. My surgery is 11am. By 11am on a normal day I’ve usually had 2.5 meals, 3 cups of tea and a few glasses of water. By 9am I am rendered worthless and feel dramatically unable to function from lack of sustenance.
Lack of food has scraped me down to my bare bones, level 1 coping mechanism, sequins. When all else fails, this Fauls knows what will get me to the other side. I have no problem admitting that I have the visual input of a bug. See shiny object, move towards it without hesitation.
So today, as I sashay into the surgical unit, I come armed. I am in head to toe sequins and it makes me feel safe. It’s a distraction from reality. I am walking nonsense which makes it so much easier to face the knife.
Stay tuned for a post-op update from my Director of Health and Wellbeing, Jennie Fauls. As soon as I can get my hands on my phone and I am able to see the screen clearly through the Dilauded haze, I’ll post some fun, drugged-up balderdash.
To quote the eponymous Paris Hilton, ‘Some girls are just born with glitter in their veins.’