And Then, There Were Five

Days, that is. Days until surgery. And now it's getting hard. Besides the emotional/fear factors of facing such a daunting task as having no legs for while, I have been off most of my anti-inflammatory and pain meds for a week now, plus no supplements, and I'm hurting. All. The. Time. Tylenol doesn't do much for the bone pain, and it does nothing for the tendonitis. I'm having problems sleeping, I'm doing too much comfort eating again, and the urge to raid the liquor cabinet and just drink until I pass out is strong and constant.

I'm not going to do that, of course, but I can see that by the time Tuesday rolls around I'll be jumping with joy (metaphorically--I'm a low-impact kind of gal from here on). If there was ever a motivating force for me, it's being inconvenienced at this level. See previous note about working on patience.

At this point I'm still playing phone tag with one of the rehab centers, I have clearance for rehab by my insurance company, I have the proverbial to-do list in process, and I've pretty much cleaned up my job enough for now. So by the end of the weekend I will be "ready," whatever that means.