I have a date with a tall, handsome man with very steady hands. He's my orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Mayo. My surgery will occur exactly 7 weeks from today, on July 8th.
A few posts ago I was annoyed that I couldn't get a firm date, and that it looked like I wouldn't get a date in July. Now that I have the date, I'm suddenly freaking out. Seven weeks is not a long time. So much to do, so little time.
July 8th is almost exactly one year from when I first had symptoms and sought answers. I've been ranting, uh, blogging for what seems like forever about the minutiae of my hip troubles (this is post #61 in less than a year) without really getting to the heart of the matter; you know, the long-awaited pre-surgery buildup, day of surgery horror stories, post-surgery reminiscences, and sexy scar photos.
But now that's all within reach. I've got a list of things to do which will keep me from going off the deep end in the near term. I have friends and family and this blog to keep me going for the next 49 days. But I may need someone to drag me inside the hospital doors the morning of July 8th. I have a very strong fight or flight response!