Each time I am about to have surgery, I make a solo sojourn into the mountains. I take no prisoners, no compadres. I have to do this alone. (Just like surgery.)It's my attempt to quiet my chattering mind, but it also gives me a calming memory from which to draw upon during the various periods of anxious waiting, waiting, waiting that I experience on surgery day.
First, there's the waiting for water I cannot swallow because it's after midnight. Or the cup of joe I smell in the morning as my husband sips it while reading the paper before we leave. I am too nervous to focus on words.
Then there's the waiting in the passenger seat of our car as we drive to the hospital in the inky pre-dawn light...
