Turning Myself In

I am dreading the ablation procedure on May 15 (Thursday). I found out this week that it is more likely that I will have to stay overnight in the hospital rather than I will get to go home. I thought the chances of me being admitted were small and was consoling myself with the thought that at least I would get to sleep in my own house after the procedure. Now that I know it is more than likely I have to stay there overnight, the whole thing has become more frightening for me. I feel like an innocent person who has to turn herself in to the authorities for punishment for a crime she did not commit.

The ablation means I will once again have to tolerate all the indignities that come with these procedures. Submitting peacefully while I allow people to insert needles and tubes into my body. Lying still while strangers invade my flesh with instruments. Being friendly and polite and thankful while all I want to do is run away. Being the only one in the room with no underpants on and no control over who touches me, how, and where.

Oh, and there will be pain.

After the procedure I will have to lie in a bed that is not mine, in a hospital gown, in sheets that are not mine and do not smell good. I will be in a room with a dirty floor so I do not feel comfortable being barefoot, so every time I get up to go pee I have to put on shoes to walk to the bathroom. Fortunately my sweet MIL has agreed to stay with me, so that is a big comfort. But I know the night will not be good. I never sleep in hospitals.

And with all of the above on my mind, today is Mother's Day. My second Mother's Day. Another celebration of the most wonderful experience of my life, of the most cherished relationships of my life, and of the reason why I go to turn myself in on Thursday.