In three days I’ll be going under the knife. While this is a minor surgery, it’s still surgery requiring general anesthesia and an overnight stay at the hospital, and I find myself nervous. I continue to marvel at how my outlook has changed since having children. Now that I have two little people depending on me, I’m so much more anxious about the possibility of something going wrong. Naturally, I didn’t want anything to happen to me when I was a single woman, but as a wife and mother the stakes are so much higher. It’s not just about me anymore. Yes, of course I’ve always had family and friends who cared what happened to me…but it is different when young children are part of the equation.
Lest this post verge off any further into gloomy territory, I must remember that I’m having this surgery to correct a condition that impairs my day to day functioning, and that, if left untreated, could have serious long-term health ramifications. So really, I’m doing this to benefit myself and my family in the short-term and in the long run. I’ll just remind myself of what I’m telling the kids—it’s no big deal, and mommy will be back home the next day. And I’ll stop thinking about those explicitly-worded informed consent and living will forms that they sent me.
