Today is Monday. Thursday is surgery day. Yeah, the day they stop my heart and I trust some dude I met 6 months ago to cut me open.
Ok granted, that guy is a surgeon who has done thousands of these and went to medical school for 90 years, but still.
Actually, for as nervous as I was a week or so ago, I've calmed down immensely. I still have those moments of doubt...I think to myself "Really? You're really doing this? You are not that fat. And maybe everyone is right, you could do this on your own. You've lost 5 lbs in the past week on your own."
And then I look at pictures of myself taken on Thanksgiving and go "Yikes, who's the fatty?" "Oh yeah, that's YOU."
And I resigned myself to giving this over to God. I figure God has a plan for everything, right? At least that's what is tattooed on my arm. "As above, so below."
Whatever God has planned above, is what is so here on earth. And if this wasn't the right thing for me, somehow it would have been stopped...either by insurance or anything really. So, that's really helping the nerves. Now I just really want Thursday to be here because the waiting is killing me. Impatience, party of one? Yes, yes that's me, reporting for duty.