Tomorrow (Thursday) is the BIG DAY. The day I go in for day-surgery. On my lady parts.
I had my pre-op assessment today, where I learned that I'm really 5'3" (yeah, I lost an inch), that my scale here at home is off by 5 pounds, and that -- good news! -- they won't be putting me under completely. Instead, I'm getting a local anesthetic and will be heavily sedated.
I'll probably be all weird and delusional (more than I am on a daily basis. slightly.) and may still fall asleep, but I shouldn't have to worry that the painkiller will stop working while they're yankin' on my innards or that I'll wake up to find that they've sewn a penis on me by accident.
Oh yeah, it could happen.
Anyway, general anesthetic or no, I'm still worried. And when I worry, I do the regular out-of-my-control things, like losing hair, breaking out, insomnia. Blah, blah, blah. (Thanks, Ke$sha, for ruining that for me.)
But I also do other things like...
... make huge batches of my fave comfort food -- garlic fried rice -- and eat it all. No matter how carby it is. Before Roomie gets any. Shhh, don't tell him.
... get totally stabby. Compared to this, PMS is a blissful day at a spa with my other pretend boyfriend (yes, I have several) Bill Campbell feeding me grapes while I get a hot stone massage.
Ahem, anyway, so darling Roomie's been hiding sharp objects from me. At least I suspect he has been. Because I can't find the scissors. Both of them. The cleaver too.
... watch countless episodes of iCarly. I have an 8-hour VHS tape with about 18 episodes on it that I have on constant play all day long. Truly. Watch this 55 second clip -- it's seriously funny chizz... (go here to see it online)
"Get outer my space! Oh, yeah!" Ah, too funny...
Anyway, I'm going to get some rest now for tomorrow I will go and not get a penis sewn onto me.
See y'all post-op!