So I'm sitting here at work, filling in for the receptionist who's on vacation. I don't have my computer but rather hers so I don't have access to all my programs which is probably a good thing. It keeps me focused on the mundane task at hand which is to manually input the first and last name, email address and phone number for everyone that filled out this entry form at our information booth during the race. It seems a pretty archaic way to do things. They all fill it out in hope of winning whatever it is we are offering and if they only knew their handwriting is so important.
They can't all be doctors right? Goodness gracious - what happened to beautiful penmanship? It's awful. So that aside, there are hundreds and hundreds of them and my eyes are blurry and some of the email addresses are just plain ridiculous. I get it, but why do so many guys end the main name with "69". *sigh*
My mind keeps wandering to my upcoming doctor visit on Wednesday and then what I'm guessing ultimately will be the angiogram with possible coiling of the aneurysm. I just keep wondering, if I don't wake up and the worst happens, should I do something now to make sure everyone knows how I feel about them.
It sounds awful and somewhat martyrish to think they'd even want to read something from me. Like some grand gesture. I know everyone that is important knows exactly how I feel for them. Maybe just a sample of my handwriting so I don't vanish. I think of Linda who went in, 3 days later intubated to die 2 weeks later and never know I was there. Never talk to me or me to her other than subconsciously.
I told DD that if things go south, he's under no obligation to handle things or if disabled in some manner, feed me oatmeal and hover or feel obligated to visit. Alexis knows what to do and everyone else needs to butt out. I will not be less than what I am now. He of course said he could not possibly find another red head like me, he just got me and I better stick around. It literally sickens me to think of how DD would feel if all my things went away. How empty the house would look and feel. My numerous projects in the works. They all get done and the space replaced with another fabulous idea.
I'm for the very first time in all the surgeries I've had, I am very, very, very scared. I want to wake up and be with DD forever. I want to go to sleep and wake up next to him every day. I want to see my son get married, become a successful actor. I want to see grandchildren. I want I want I want. I tease my co-workers all the time and for years now, I can't die yet, they haven't carved the marble statue of me out front. Who would repair the ripped and torn flags that fly out front? They'd miss my radio playing country music all day. Many of them are scared too. Somehow cancer seems operable where a brain aneurysm diagnosis seems a bit more daunting and less favorable.
I will need to be convinced that this is the way to go. I get that if I don't it could bust and then all bets are off and usually results in 80% death rate. The other 20% are usually disabled. Wonderful. I need to relax, retire and be done with stress. I need to keep my blood pressure under control so this damn aneurysm doesn't grow or come back in a different spot. I'm overwhelmed and a bit tired of trying to be cavalier. Crying won't solve anything and either will worrying. But, if I get knocked out and it all goes bad, I never got my heroic goodbye words or kiss. I just want to be really old and die in my sleep.
All that bouncing around while I go back to inputting the damn entry blanks. Where's awesome water when you need it.
