Wednesday, September 3, 2008

The Guilt

Today I had my pre-op appointment for my surgery tomorrow. A short while ago, I pulled my lightweight jacket around my body as I walked out the door of my office and into the unseasonably cold and rainy day. Through the pothole pocked alleyway behind the building, I made my way to my car. Juggling my keys, cell phone, bag, umbrella and envelopes to be mailed, I climbed into my little silver car and started on my way.

Even though I was careful to hit the restroom up before leaving, my bladder let me know her exact feelings on going to the doctor, not even 5 minutes down the road. I’ve never sat through a doctor’s appointment where I didn’t have to pee. I couldn’t even fathom what that must feel like, but I imagine there is a sort of careless freedom associated with it.

In circles, I spiraled my way through the parking garage, past all the ‘reserved for Dr. Freaknuts’ and ‘Medical Mall Employee of the Month’ spaces that were covered and shielded from the weather, until I got to the top and found a spot. Out into the cold rain, I sprinted to the building. Shaking off the mist I made my way to the elevator that creaked its way up to get me. Momentarily, I pondered getting stuck in the elevator on my way to the plastic surgeon.

I’d probably deserve some divine punishment like that.

I announced my fantastically damp arrival and took my seat like a good little patient who wanted her gold star. I sat as I heard them discuss my file in hushed tones and my heart started to pound in my not yet altered chest. What were they saying? Was there a problem? Oh Good God, what the hell was it? And then she came out, clutching my chart. She smiled, looked at my very uncomfortable waiting cohort, unsure which of us was the right one, the Patient Coordinator said my name. I jumped out of my seat like someone goosed me. “Me, that’s me!” Oh God, it’s me.

I’m ushered into the little room and told to disrobe and then, well, re-robe and she stepped out of the room. I moved into action, only pausing to pick up the silicone implant to squeeze it again. I can’t get enough of that. So weird. I neatly fold my clothes like there is some kind of an award for having the neatest pile, while trying to look entirely not vulnerable in my robe and designer jeans. Then I mildly panic again. Did she say let her know when I was done or do I wait. Do I wait patiently? Do I open the door. Do I whisper I’m ready or do I yell. Do I walk out to find her. Oh Lord, what do I….gentle knock.

“Come in”, I sang out sweetly, not at all flustered. And in she comes… with a large Nikon. She tells me to take off my robe and stand in front of the black curtain for my BEFORE shots. Now I know what the curtain I eyed when I walked in was for. I do as I’m told. Under unkind fluorescent lights I stand. Still wearing my jeans and super cute shoes she just commented on, I face her and put my arms to my side, dutifully. Then I turn to the left and then to the right. “Wow, I feel like I’m taking mug shots… oh, well, not that I would know or anything.” (What do I do with my arms now, I’m half naked and making jokes?) She tells me that I kind of am and then I blurt out, “well, jug shots, anyway.” (At least she laughed). As I scramble to get the robe back on, she tells me to go ahead and get dressed and OPENS THE DOOR while I’m still struggling with the robe! Now I’m to wait for the doctor.

So I sit like the good Labrador I feel I’m becoming and eye the pamphlets. Briefly, I think again about squeezing the implant. Really? Do I need some kind of support group for this squeezing thing?

In he comes with the coordinator and scoots his little stool up to the table. Opening my chart, he tells me today is my lucky day. My mind quickly goes through my catalog of jokes, but really is spiraling with ‘What the holy hell is he talking about?’ Oh shit, did I win some contest? Am I the Millionth Patient. I get it for free?!! With obvious, outward patience I wait for him to continue. “The patient scheduled ahead of you has a kidney infection, your moved up to the first slot of the day tomorrow.” Horrified, “well not good for her, now is it?” Now I’m clicking through my options, frantically trying to figure out how I can get there at 6AM AND take Crazyman to the sitter. I have no time to work it out, prescription forms are flying at me with hurried explanations of what they all are. I do know I said I get constipated easily somewhere in there.

And then it’s over. I’m being escorted to where I need to go and pointed towards the pharmacy where I have to spend $40 on the ugliest hose for my legs I’ve ever seen and reminded to buy a front opening sports bra this afternoon and to drop off my other prescriptions… The End.

I make my way back through the building, fearing what my husband will say when I tell him of the time change. He’s stressed, it’s the beginning of the month, his busy time. No matter what, it’s not going to go well. He told me to call him when I was done, but I know I’ll be interrupting him. Sure enough, he’s gruff and annoyed. Annoyed at the cost of the stupid hose, annoyed at the time change and annoyed at me for doing this to even begin with. I’m told what a pain it all is. Unsure of what to do, guilt eating me alive, I retort “Well I’m sorry!” and click my phone closed.

So here I sit, banging out this silly blog post. Putting everything I have into it because if I stop and think about it, I’m going to cry. I’m going to cry at work, in front of everyone with no place to hide.

I did what every girl would do. I called my mom. The one who wouldn’t even mention the surgery and ask her if she can take me in the morning since she works in the hospital. Just like my mom does, she thinks for a minute, she inconvenienced but I tell her she doesn’t have to pick me up, I’ll come over there and I’ll just ride with her. She, thankfully, says yes.

I can’t even tell you what all I’m feeling at the moment. Guilt being most of it. Alone being the rest of the feeling equation. What the hell did I get myself into? Why do I do these things?


KaritaG said...

Oh S, I am so sorry. I always feel like my hubs "stops" being supportive right at the moment I most need him to be so...and normally it has nothing to do with me. Maybe he is just having a shitty day, ya know? Try not to take it personally and let him make you think you shouldn't be doing this...this is something you are excited about, and you will be glad you did it after it is all done! You "deserve" it. I hope he is in a better mood tomorrow morning! And, hose? For a boob job? What's the point, if you don't mind my asking?

J said...

Oh hon, you know the stress is just nerves! I know how excited you really are about all of this, and you don't need to feel guilty. It's about damn time you did something for YOU!

Dirty Pirate Hooker said...

Don't cry.

If your husband doesn't call you back in 5 minutes, tell him he can't touch your new boobs for a month...

Good luck tomorrow, I'll be thinking about you.


Pam said...

I hope it all goes well. Sorry about the bumps along the way and changes. It will be worth it. When I am still flat and saggy- you will be perky and lifted. I'm so very jealous. Good luck and I wish I lived closer- I would drive you so you don't have to get your mom to do it.

Sarah said...

Sounds like you caught your hubs at a bad moment. Either way, his timing is impeccable! I agree with J - the stress is just nerves. It'll all be worth it in the end. BTW, I hear you on those hose. They're so, so ugly. I think they're for keeping your circulation moving while you're laid up.

Kat said...

Oh, honey! Tears at work would suck, but you did a beautiful thing writing this post to keep from spilling them.

Sorry about your man being a dickhead just at the perfect moment. My husband has a degree in that. I can't imagine the suck of having to ride with your mom who won't even talk about it. But you're seeing it through. You're tough. You're getting your beautiful new breastises, and all us girls out here on the internets will be cheering you on tomorrow.

Anonymous said...

Aww...don't beat yourself up over it. That guilt is weighing heavily on you and it's preceded with fear. All of the fear you have about this procedure (which most are typical I would say) is making you feel guilty to keep you from being scared.

Same for Jason.

Just try to relax and think of the rewards you'll get out of everything you have done tomorrow. To everyone else, it will eventually be no big deal and they'll get over it. If not, they can kiss your asshole.

:) Now smile, dammit!

Lisa..... said...

I always have to pee a lot when I am nervous. And why do people always forget about privacy when you have your little gown or robe or whatever on?

Just remember, if your going to spen all that money on new boobs, the you need to do it right. You don't any problems so you get the hose and the colace (or whatever they gave you) and hubs will be glad you're okay. Good Luck!

Lisa..... said...

FYI, the hose is to prevent blood clots and to (points for J) help with circulation when your laying around a lot.

Anonymous said...

I'm sorry :( I'm sorry you feel this way. You need to STOP feeling this way. Don't feel guilty--you're stressed, he's stressed. It'll be fine.

I'll be thinking of you all day today. Can't wait to read the update on Hootergate '08.


Anonymous said...

It will all be OK, my other half says things like that too when he's stressed out.

I hope today is going well.

BTW, did you ever pee? :)

Allie Bear said...

I hope everything goes well for you today. I'm sorry you had such a sucky day before surgery but, like everyone said, it's just nerves. And I'm glad you are doing something for you, you shouldn't feel guilty about making yourself happy, millions of people do it everyday and never feel a thing.

I am Trish Marie said...

You know, I will never figure out why doctors think that springing things on you the DAY BEFORE SURGERY is a fun idea. A lucky thing? Ha! You are already a bundle of nerves! That is not a funny game. I have had stuff like that happen often when planning Emmi's surgeries, and it left me scrambling when I was already worried to begin with.

I am sending out good vibes to you today. By now the boobie fairy should have already come. I hope everything went smoothly.

Captain Steve said...

Your new ladies should be gracing us with their presence now. I bid them welcome into the world and hope that you are as thrilled with them as you wanted to be.

Mama Dawg said...

Just like a man, huh? Good luck tomorrow!

O'Neal (The woman in charge around here) said...

I just wanted to tell you that you are not the only woman addicted to squeezing the silicone! Waiting for my boob job, all I had to play with were knee high stockings filled with rice stuffed into my bra. To this day, women will STILL walk up to me (and sometimes not even ask) and squeeze my boobs commenting on how gorgeous they are!
Good luck to you, and don't forget to do your daily massages! Oh, and whatever you do, do NOT lay flat on your back, you will NEVER be able to get up!