It's amazing how an upcoming operation always puts things in perspective.
You start thinking things like:
* Are my finances in order?
* Is the home clean?
* Who will inherit my personal belongings?
Then you begin plans for the after life.
You think things like:
¶ Have I enough credit to get into heaven?
¶ Is my slate of sin wiped clean?
¶ Who will inherit my personal belongings?
Operations scare the hell out of me.
I remember when I was in the outer room of the delivery unit at Bosio hospital, being prepped for my first delivery.
Dr comes in, checks me and then declares, "Your baby is breathing shallower than normal. If we don't get him out soon, we'll need to do a C-section."
My eyebrows shot into my skull; I said in my mind" No way!!" And proceeded to push my first born out of his 'cozy home' with as much strength as I could muster. The poor guy had the umbilical cord around his neck, true story, and he had swallowed his shit.
All I could think of at that moment was"Bach ghaya".
Oh no, not him, ME. Mein Bach Gaya.
So my life's mission from then on has been to avoid an operation if I can help it.
Every delivery after that first one was PUSH OUT time, the only exercise I did to completion and perfection, may I say.
I have met my Nemesis. The same womb that got me through is now a traitor. My ally has become my enemy. It has allowed two encroachers to turn my life upside down. Yes, guys, I'm talking about those nasty growths doctors call fibroids.
Two fibroids are the reason I have to go for this operation soon. It's funny how these small little gotis are making me so scared. I can visualize myself on the operation table, watching through a haze,( coz my doctor has promised me local anaesthesia) as he chip-chops his way around my ovaries, fallopian tubes and finally delivers my uterus. A bloody C-section for my reproductive organs!!
Life is a *****, isn't it?