Friday, February 14, 2014


Limbo  noun \ˈlim-(ˌ)bō\
1  often capitalized :  an abode of souls that are according to Roman Catholic theology barred from heaven because of not having received Christian baptism
2 a :  a place or state of restraint or confinement
   b :  a place or state of neglect or oblivion limbo
  c :  an intermediate or transitional place or state
  d :  a state of uncertainty

Source: Merriam-Webster online dictionary

I fall under definition in red.

My doctors office called me last night and said there was a chance I'd be going in for my surgery today, this afternoon. I was ordered to fast from midnight last night and await their phone call this morning.

There's something you should know about me. I'm a planner. I'm so OCD about planning that I plan for planning. No joke. So to be given 12 hours notice of surgery - something I'm terrified of facing....well, that doesn't sit well with me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not mad at the doctor, just stressed with the situation. I'm happy that he's trying to expedite this. I understand why it's imperative to have the surgery sooner than later. I've got a nasty purple/black lump on the side of my breast filling up with fluid that could, at any time, pop open and expose my implant to the world, not to mention set me up for infection.

But 12 hours notice does not allow me time to prepare myself mentally for going under the knife again. I need to time to calmly think about why it's necessary and important. I need time to prepare my children. I need time to arrange for childcare and school transportation because my mother, who usually takes care of those things for me, is on a cruise and the moment and blissfully unaware of what's going on at home. I'm glad for that, I'd hate for her trip to be spoiled with worry.

So this morning I waited, hungry, tired, scared and desperate for coffee for the phone call telling me what time to be at the hospital. At 10:30 my doctor's secretary called to tell me that there was no OR time available today and that I'd be having surgery next week or the week after. It's not like OR time falls from the sky and so, unfortunately some unlucky person is going to get bumped on my account. I'm sorry for that. I'm sure it will be frustrating. It won't be someone critical, like a cancer patient. But he is a cosmetic surgeon so I'm sure there is someone out there getting a boob job or liposuction just because they want to and well, that poor person is gonna have to wait. My boob is literally about to pop.

So now, here I sit in limbo. Waiting. Waiting for the call to tell me when my turn is. Waiting to see if this means I'm off work even longer.

I'll admit I was relieved today. I wasn't ready. I didn't have a chance to properly prepare the kids. I wasn't feelin' it.

Of course it also means I psyched myself up for nothing and I've go to do it all over again next week.

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