A big russian dude walks in to my little pre-op cubicle. He puts one leg up on the bed, an odd position to witness especially when the beds are above average height. Grabbing the packet of papers, he starts asking me questions in a dialect that shouldn’t exist.
Um…can we try that again in English?
He smiles at me and switches to another barely understandable dialect.
His voice is deep and his mannerisms are slow and spaced.
Chave you ehver chad surgery?
Ohkay. So how vas the anesthesia?
No side eeeffects?
And dream reqvests?
Oh lord have I got the best anesthesiologist in all of Rishon Litzion!
Um…Pink Floyd piped into my subconscious?
Slow smile and even lower voice
Ohkay. Dark Siiiide Of Zee Mooooon.
Anyone remember my saga with my health?
Here’s a quick recap: I went to the doctor after months of weakness and fatigue. She ordered blood tests, they came back reeking of mono, and told me to rest up. (Ha!) She also sent me for x-rays of my face to find out why I’ve spent the past five years suffering from headaches. No big deal. Took the results to an ENT she had recommended and began a six month process of figuring out what’s wrong. Anyway – after ruling out everything else, I was sent for a CT scan that showed polyps, tissue buildup, narrow sinus canals as well as a deviated septum. I was told I needed surgery.
Now, just so you know, the idea of surgery is absolutely wonderful to me. For the past five years I’ve been begging my husband to somehow cut my face off and scoop out the pain. It hurt that bad. Scalpels scraping my sinuses is totally my thing. I want this so badly.
The date of the surgery was tentatively set and I went about my business with the knowledge that in six weeks it will all be over.
Except now there’s a change.
The surgery was rescheduled.
For next week. Monday. One week from today. I just found out. And for some reason that I have no way of logically explaining, I’m freaking out.
The thing about Change is that it takes you from Certain Knowledge to the Land of the Unknown. It does it fast -dizzily – and then time slows as you realize that you have no choice but to adjust the one thing you think you know best; your brain.
Brain, this is Change speaking. Get over it. I don’t really care what you think. I’m here now. You. Have. Lost. Control.