It's quiet in the house. I'm up late and everyone else is asleep. In seven hours, I'll be in prep for exploratory surgery on my hip. I've had trouble with it for the past ten years and since no one can seem to fix it, this seems the logical next step. I'm a little anxious. I just finished revisions on a story and need to complete another which is 3/4 of the way done and start on a third. I worry that the pain meds are going to knock me out for days and cause me to be non-productive (I don't care if it's a word or not, that's not the point.)
I'm not worried about the outcome. I'm not worried that they won't find anything. I'm not worried they'll find something. I can't worry about that stuff. It's out of my hands now. Either they will or they won't and either way I'll be in pain for days. Do I hope they'll find something they can fix? Hell, yeah. Am I going to go all-in on this surgery being the cure for pain that has plagued me for ten years? Meh. I'll be happy if it does and not shocked if it doesn't.
So instead of worrying about the results, I'm worried about my writing. Did I mention my debut book just hit the shelves? That RWA National conference is at the end of July? That I want to continue to write and finish these books that are driving me nuts? So I'm awake and wondering if I should spend the night writing. It will probably be more coherent than what I'll be able to put together over the next couple of days. But I have to wake up in 5-1/2 hours. Granted I'll be asleep most of the morning. :)
Outpatient surgery, crutches for a while after, physical therapy starts Tuesday. Maybe this time I'll ride the dragon. See you all on the other side.