I always go into these surgeries with mixed feelings, and the weirdest of those is wondering if it's really going to be a worthwhile thing. Even if the surgery is considered medically successful, would the benefits be so small that I wouldn't think them worth the pain? It's just another twist on the old thinking, "Maybe it really is all in my head." That almost causes more anxiety than the whole issue of having the surgery! It's easy to say that at least I would know that I tried, but since I haven't been in that place I don't quite know how happy I'd be with that explanation.
Tylenol, Advil and I have been becoming real good friends for the past couple of days. I've decided that when I figure out which one works better I'll write in and offer to do a commercial in exchange for a meager supply. *grin* I wonder if they'd notice if I did commercials for both since I can't decide. Anyway, I've had a lot of time to sleep and a lot of time to think. Every time I have surgery, it brings back some memories. (Of course, I'm maybe too nostalgic for my own good sometimes.) This one is especially significant because it was just two weeks short of being 20 years (to the day) since my first one. In a lot of ways I am different now, not the least of which is that I do know how to keep myself from screaming when the doctor pulls out the retinoscope. (Instead, I make jokes about it.) But in some ways I haven't changed very much. I am grateful beyond words that I didn't have to have that thing on my head, pushing the life out of my eye, when I was eight. Besides the fact that the entire hospital would have known what was happening to me, my poor mom wouldn't have done well. She and Dad were both in the room with me this time, and I couldn't help wondering what they were thinking.
Mostly, I find myself thinking right now of all the blessings I've received just in the past few weeks. (Oh, yes, there is one more. I got my quarterly review for About.com... I'll spend the next three months at $500/month.) It's the most natural thing for me to think, "What did I do to deserve all this???" But the answer is, "Nothing. I'm your Father, and I love you, and sometimes I just want to show you in ways you can see and touch." He knows how much I've needed to see and touch Him, and it's these times that make me understand... And He'll build on that understanding ... and I will trust Him because He is who He is and He loves me the way He does.