My gallbladder has 14(ish) hours to live.
Surgery is scheduled for 9:30 tomorrow morning. We are to report to the hospital at 7:30. My poor husband is traveling for work and won't be home until probably 1am. It's going to be a long day for him.
I'm a little nervous, mostly about anesthesia. I hate being knocked out. There was the ugly incident after miscarriage #2 where my brain woke up by my body didn't, and several times I've had some sort of odd muscle reaction to the drugs (essentially leaving me feeling like I've fallen down a flight of stairs) and then there is just the yucky out-of-control feeling while I struggle to wake up. I just hate it.
Of course, being me, I also imagine every horrible scenario that could be. What if I die on the table and leave Robbie without a mother? Oh yes, I've thought about that a half dozen times over the last few days. I love my brain, truly.
Realistically, I'll be fine. Probably sore for a few days. David will be home Wednesday & Thursday and my dad is coming on Friday. Hopefully by then I'll be moving around okay. I'm not technically supposed to lift over 20 pounds for a month but even the surgeon didn't pretend that was possible. Robbie's small, but not that small. (He's right around 25 pounds, for the record.)
Hopefully being cared for by men will be okay. David's actually usually really a good nurse, but I do worry that he will need a lot of prompting for what to do with Robbie all day and I will lost my patience. He's notorious for doing thing like saying he'll get up with Robbie on a Saturday, but what he really does is get up and bring Robbie to bed with me. Thanks, hon.
But we'll see.
The doc said we'll know in a few weeks if I'm going to be very sick afterward. If I'm not really sick, we can start TTC any time. If I am, I'll need a couple of months to let my body adjust. Either way, a week after the surgery, I'll call my OB and get the MFM referral.
This is really happening. Let the anxiety begin.