I am receiving a unique gift for my 48th birthday this year. A hysterectomy. That's right, I'll be having surgery on my birthday.
This really is a gift though it may not appear to be. For years I have suffered with this mess. I've tried every option and they have all failed. Turns out, this is the only thing that will give me any relief.
And now that it is a reality, I'm scared. Not so much about the surgery or the pain or even the anesthesia. This is not my first surgery. But it is my first surgery since I've been alone.
I guess what I am scared about is waking up in the hospital and being alone. All my friends work and so I will be coming out of surgery and there will be no one there. I am feeling really scared about that.
I've had surgery twice before and there were people that I knew loved me standing at my bedside when I began to wake up. I know I was groggy and incoherent and not awake for very long but just seeing their faces let me know I was OK and that everything was going to be OK.
I know this sounds so silly. It's really not that big a deal. Why is this bothering me so much?
I think that it is bringing home the point that I am alone. When it really comes down to it, I am alone. My mom is gone, my dad is two states away and my daughter is one state away. There is no one that I can really count on to be here with me.
Now I sound like I'm just whining... What's so interesting to me is that I've always had a fear of being alone. I've had to face this fear in the last five years and have been doing quite well with it. I've been alone and surprise, it's not so bad. For some reason this is different.
Perhaps it's feeling so vulnerable and having to depend on other people. I'm not used to that. I'm used to doing things for myself and not having to depend much on other folks. A friend is taking me into her home for that first week out of the hospital. I suppose there is a lesson here that I am supposed to learn, and that is that it's OK to need people.
Just two more ironies: my ride to the hospital? My ex-husband. The face I will probably see when I wake up, my ex-mother-in-law. She's been the face I've seen through the groggy haze of anesthesia twice before and to her, I'm still family...
So as always, the silver lining to the cloud. I may feel alone but really, I'm far from it. While my closest family and loved ones may not be here, I have the next best thing. And even though I sometimes forget, I am loved.