One Day at a Time

I am sure that in the days to come this title will take on various meanings. 

My open heart surgery is less than a week away. It is still very surreal. Although I have known deep inside that this day will come, now that it's here, it's still come as a shock. As early as December 14 (that's less than 2 months ago), this surgery was not a reality yet. My dad is 62 and he's never had his chest opened. My grandfather died at 62, after several strokes, but no heart surgeries, either. 

I guess, in a way, I was thinking, whatever FH does to us is a little bit more unexpected than a "planned" surgery. Luckily, this will not be my case. Everyone that's had heart surgery before would agree, I think, that you do want to plan for this thing and walk into the hospital on your own two feet, rather than be rolled in on a stretcher. 

I have worked full time through this time, and I have rolled with the punches so far, of one grim diagnosis after another, with some slightly lighter ones in between. I have done research, I have joined forums of people who have lived through this, I have gotten closer to many a-family and friends. I have been ever so grateful to see so many people cheering for me. Through it all, I am nervous, I am feisty, I am grateful, I am enjoying every waking moment of a new breath with no chest pain, and I am even grateful for some of the days with pain - it means I still have a heart and it's letting me know it's there. 

I wish I can give some advice in a situation like this, but I have none to give. If there is one thing to say is this: as always, as with everything, stay true to yourself. Allow yourself to be who you are through this roller coaster of trying to come to grips with this. No matter what people tell you, good or bad, look inside yourself and decide what you want, with no judgement, with no label: you want to cry - cry. You want to laugh and enjoy the moment - do it. You want to have one last decadent meal - go for it. You want to say your goodbyes, write them down. It helps to get perspective this way. Whatever it is, it's your body, your health, your stress to manage. Everyone else, no matter how qualified and close to you, should butt out. 

In the next few days, I am taking it one step at a time: sleeping in on the weekends, watching cheesy Hallmark movies on TV, going out to dinner with my husband, calling family, reading, praying, meditating, searching for God in the pit of my chest. He's there. Beating away. I have one more work day to show up for, and then, I'm taking a couple of days to process paperwork (including my directives for a memorial/ funeral or lack thereof) and to go to the hospital for pre-op tests and one last visit with the surgeon before the "big day". 

I feel an eerie calm, like before the storm, you know. But I'll take it. I'm also enjoying twisting and turning in bed at night, loose and flexible from every bone and joint in my body. I will miss this the most!