Up at 2am

I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life.

I have my doubts that anyone will even read this, but as I don't really want to sleep right now I figure that writing is the better alternative.

This entire past weekend I've held my panic at bay. I had a few days, and I hoped they would drag. But the time has finally come, and I honestly don't really believe I'll be having surgery in just over nine hours. My alarm is set to go off at 7am so I can shower and do my hair and set things up downstairs for those days during which I am an invalid. My parents will take me to the hospital at 9am so we arrive at 9:30 and then I have a harrowing two hour wait until I actually enter the ER during which they will give me Valium and gas and numb me before putting an IV in my hand in order to knock me out and I will lose an hour of my life.

All day as I worked a 12 hour shift for my job I held back tears, watching episode after episode of Smallville to keep my mind off of things. I'm hungry, but I'm not allowed to eat. I'm thirsty, but I'm not allowed to drink. I'm exhausted, but if I sleep the next four and a half hours will be over before I know it. I know nothing will stop time from barreling forward, but that doesn't mean I won't try to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. In all my life this is one thing I never wanted to go through.

Everyone keeps telling me I'll be fine, the doctor is gorgeous, these people are competent and know how to handle cases like mine, etc etc, and honestly I'm tired of it. I'm not afraid of the pain. I admit the fear of the needles. But more than any of that I'm afraid of that one hour during which I have zero control over what happens to me. I'm forced to sleep by filling my veins with drugs, my knees will be messed with, I'll be bandaged up, and the whole time I'll just be lying there, helpless, and will wake up with no memory of its occurrence. I do not like not being in control of my own body, and I do not like not knowing the outcome. I have no idea how much pain I'll be in, or how the anesthesia will affect me. I don't know if eating food afterwards will make me sick, I don't know how out of it I'll be. And quite honestly I've never wanted to find out, but now I have no choice.

I know, I know, you're thinking "They're your knees, of course you have a choice!" Well, when you spend the entire weekend limping due to the pain in your knees, feeling as though they're stiff and swollen and the pain nearly bringing you to tears... then perhaps you'll understand that no, I did not have a choice. Either I live with the pain or I suck it up and have the surgery and live with temporary pain that means the chronic pain will disappear without a trace. As much as I hate it, I'll take the latter.

Prayer. God is the only thing that will get me through this.