Bits and pieces taken out

7 hours until i get picked up to go to the hospital for surgery.
9 hours until i go under

i'm not nervous - it's a relatively routine operation, and i have (apparently) one of the best GI surgeons in the lower mainland doing it.

and i've made friends with most of the nurses both in the ER and in the regular ward.

i don't know any in day surgery though...but still. i'm no stranger to this hospital.

hell, i have the iv in from this morning's trip to the er. they let me keep it in - covered it with gauze and netted dressing so i could come home with it. that way i don't have to get poked again tomorrow, which is great because i'm running out of viable veins in my arms. my left arm is out completely due to an iv infection. my right hand's last viable vein was used this morning. and they tend to only ever be able to find one vein in my right forearm and it's an awkward one to do.

i'm not nervous.

but i'm nervous. i'm nervous that i'll have forgotten to bring something they needed me to bring (although i'm 99.9% sure i haven't). i'm nervous that something will happen out of my control and i won't be able to have the surgery tomorrow and will have to wait wait wait. i'm nervous there will be complications (hey, i'm the girl that if something *could* happen to, it will). i'm nervous i'll wake up with a migraine and they won't be able to give me any iv drugs for it because i'm already going under two hours later. i'm nervous that they will put me on Cipro, even though my red wristband and chart tell them not to due to allergies (they did that this last trip in but i caught it i n time simply by asking what it was she was hooking me up to.)

i've taken my meds, i've brushed my teeth, i've put together my bag o' stuff to take with me (only one day's worth, no biggie).

i am looking forward to the end of the "Surprise!! Gallbladder attack!" pain and vomiting.

i am not looking forward to the feeling of total lack of control and panic that comes with general anesthetic (for me, anyway).

i am not looking forward to waking up to pain pain pain pain where's the drug button.

my side is dully throbbing with a mournful doomed tone.

more pieces of me coming out.

more empty room inside.

more scars.
more tears.
more

please let my body do well tomorrow. please let the surgical team be rested. please let them remember my allergy. please.