Out of all the pictures of “blast off” I could find, I chose this one of Apollo 7. I chose it partly because it was the first manned space ship NASA put into space, but it is also the first one I can remember. I remember watching it on television in 1968.
Today is the day. In one hour, I will check into the hospital. In two hours expressing my love and gratitude to the people in the waiting room for being there and my kids on Facetime. In three hours I will be kissing my beloved Charles goodbye.
I have done all the things I was supposed to do. I stopped taking medicine and supplements seven days ago. I had a light lunch yesterday and have not eaten since. I have had nothing to drink since midnight. I have scrubbed multiple times with antibiotic soap and gargled multiple times with a prescribed mouthwash. My wedding rings are tucked safely in my jewelry box. Most of the things on my to-do list are complete; those that are not can wait.
Charles knows how to feed the sourdough, water the orchids, take care of the chickens and dogs and himself. Most importantly, he knows how much I love him.
I did not sleep much last night. All the “what ifs” kept waking me up like a toddler who needs a drink.
I am scared, there is no doubt about that. Not so much of not surviving the surgery, but of the recovery afterward. Will I recover quickly? Will I be a drain on people? Will I behave poorly because I am in pain?
I also know that I have every reason to survive the surgery, complete my rehab and get on with things. I have my Charles, my kids, my grandkids, my family and my friends to get back to. They all know how much I love them, but they need reminding sometimes and I want to be there to remind them. There are things to write. There is still much to do in the saving of the environment. There are still people out there who do not understand the literal meaning of the word “literally.” My work here on Earth is not done.
My life mantra is: There is a Divine Plan of Goodness runs through my head.
I will be fine. I will be better than fine. I will be great.
You might not hear from me for a while. See you on the other side.
Diane, my new friend. I have been reading your personal thoughts and wanted you to know MY thoughts were with you. I recently had a cardiac ablation and Roger did the same procedure in June, so I am somewhat familiar with the anxieties. I, however, wasn’t organized or prepared like you were. I really didn’t have the courage to follow along in real time, so I am reading about your journey after knowing you are well on your way to recovery. ❤️🩹. Roger had a quadruple bypass surgery in 1998 and in 2015 a cardiac arrest followed with CPR by my brother and then a defibrillator immediately after that. It was a process. I am praying your full recovery is a quick one. You’re right…you still have a lot to do and I am so grateful we finally got the chance to meet.
Thank you, Cheryl. I am glad you are recovering well.