I'm having surgery on Friday the 24th. I've been grudgingly coming to terms with this for the last two days: I've talked it out to death, cried it out (if there is such a thing), rationalized it two dozen times (my poor co-workers have listened to me yammer on and on), and made my final decision last night, when I realized I can no longer have my body subjected to so much pain and stress. So, I am having surgery.
I'm absolutely terrified. I'm not even going to try to be funny, or witty, or irreverent in this post: I am tired, scared, and mad. I wish there was a better way. I wish that half of my doctors didn't disagree with the other half! I wish there was a solution. I don't consider an 8-10 inch bodily incision and the hacking off of parts of your intestine an agreeable "solution".
But I'm done; my hands are up - I surrender! Not to say I won't be fighting this disease, but something has got to give. I acknowledge that.
My abscess is still there. My terminal ileum is still greatly inflamed. And, above all, I'm just hurtin'. (When a narcotic drug isn't doing it for you anymore, you know something is wrong.)
More about all of this later, you know, when I can compose a more thoughtful post. But above all, thank you for listening to me rant and rave (I know it's not always fun listening to a girl complain).