Mental Machinery

I am on here, creating a new blog, at 3 AM. It's just two days before my hip replacement surgery. I have done what I can, thus far, to calm down: meditated, medicated (hello to a double-shot of lorazapam), received facials, received pedicures, talked to and written friends, journaled, plus mercilessly hugged and smooched my dog. I find that my mind and body are in conflict with what I want them to do.

My mind thinks, "OMG, they're going to saw off part of my leg!" My body reacts, "Run!" So, my heart pounds through my chest wall, my face gets super hot, and my anger (or defense) reaches atomic levels. I feel like that helpless 18-month-old child, left alone so many years ago, with a Naval coreman, awaiting my eye surgery. The only thing I could do at that time was yell, "SHIT!" so my parents wouldn't leave. Unfortunately, that's not going to work this time.

I want to be at peace with this whole surgical process, knowing that it's the right thing because I've diligently worked through other possible solutions. Over the past year, I've participated in acupuncture; yoga; sideline physical therapy; massage; tapping, Advil graduating to Alleve graduating to meloxicam graduating to hydrocodone, swimming; hot tubs; scalding baths; and finally paying attention to what I eat. Logically this all makes sense, especially since I hobble all the time with a cane now. But, what is it that's holding me back so much? Does anyone really come to total peace with major surgery?

I really wish I could figure that out. Maybe by keeping this blog, I'll be able to do that. Maybe not. I do know that I feel a little better documenting what's going on. I'm the kind of person who needs to write to understand what's swirling around in my head. Without that, I am lost.

“My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery - always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?”
― Virginia Woolf