COME WHAT MAY

My physical health. Something I had always been fairly blessed with. 

It may come as no surprise to learn that I have a severe dislike to being put under General Anaesthetic. When you are under a GA, you suddenly have no option but to place your trust in a machine and a team of medical professionals. You rely on the knowledge and actions of those outside of yourself. That doesn’t necessarily go down well with someone who had always had a firm grip of control.

Before a particular operation last year, I read a pamphlet that quoted “General Anaesthetic. It takes you to the edge of death, and keeps you there”. At the time, I seriously considered writing to their people to suggest that someone needed to work on the marketing material! 

This time was different. I had just checked into the hospital. I had a 7 hour surgery in front of me. I was alone. By choice. In reality I should have been anxious, but I was anything but. I was exceptionally calm.

After handing over my suitcase and signing all the required consent forms, I remember sitting in the room, flicking through the menu, and deciding on meal options for the duration of my stay. “I get wine, and beer, AND cheese” I excitedly replied to my two best friends who were checking in with me via text every 2 minutes without fail. I guess it was at this point it dawned on me that something was not quite right. Here I was, the queen of control, about to put my life in strangers hands for a substantial amount of time, and instead of my usual freak out, I was more concerned with my selection of post op indulgences. 

“Why aren’t you worried?” I thought to yours truly. My answer to myself, although it may surprise some, didn’t really all that surprise me – “Because if by some small chance you fail to wake up, you’re okay with that scenario.” 

It was in that exact moment that I came to the full realisation that I was exhausted. I was energetically depleted, and in the months prior, it became evident that I had really sucked at taking care of myself. I take responsibility in saying that I had no one to blame but myself. The reasons why, will come later. 

My thoughts were interrupted by a nurse calling my name. It was time to scrub up. This was it, ladies and gentlemen, it was show time.