Thursday morning at 11 am I have second appointment with Dr. Elliott. We’ll talk more about the Bilateral Tram Flap reconstruction process, take pictures and do whatever needs to be done for preliminaries.
I’m nauseous.
On the up side I used to be nauseous and shaking. That last part seems to have abated, so that’s a good thing.
I’m just so terrified that something else is going to go wrong. I’m scared beyond belief of having another severe complication like I had with the first (or second) surgery, only worse.
So why am I even doing this? I’m on the verge of tears, I’m so afraid. I don’t know if I can do this. Logically I realize that this is an unreasonable fear. Dr. Elliott is far more experienced than the motherfucker who screwed me up before. He has only had ONE instance in 22 years of a failure of the flap. He learned how do the procedure by studying under the doctor who INVENTED the damned thing.
And yet…I’m going to throw up.
I’ve said before that I’m torn. I can’t live like this. I’m mangled. My chest is a ruin. Yet I’m terrified of something going wrong. This decision is ripping me apart. I think deer in headlights have more idiomotor control than I do right now.
I’m hard headed (thick skulled?) though. I’ll find a way through the fear. I have to.
I’m going to write another installment after my appointment. So stay tuned boys and girls. Same boob time. Same boob chanel.
