So much of my life right now is logistics: how to manage the condo repair, the dealings with insurance companies, the almost daily travel from Yucaipa to Thousand Oaks (117 miles one way!) and, perhaps worst of all, the fact that come Monday, I will be unable to take care of myself.
I’m the kind of person who gets twitchy without her car. I love having it nearby, knowing I can take off and go anywhere I want at a moment’s notice. It’s freedom, and I not only crave it, I rely on it.
But I’m having major surgery on Monday and I sat at dinner tonight with my partner, my mother, and my mother’s partner discussing who will be taking me to the hospital, who will be staying with me, who will be driving me home, who will be caring for me afterward.
I’m in incredibly good hands, but I’m also humiliated. I’ve spent most of my adulthood building my life, and it’s a life I’m very proud of. Its cornerstones are independence, strength, persistence and, yes, friends and family. And now all but one of those cornerstones are going away. I don’t think I’ve ever had to rely on other people this much since graduating college. I’m terrified of being so weak. Of being so dependent. It feels like a rejection of everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve.
But, oh, how grateful I am that I have friends and family willing to do this for me! And that I can afford to have this surgery, both in terms of time and money. I know I’m lucky, I really do. I have no idea how I’m ever going to repay all the kindness, support, and help I’ve already been shown. (And maybe I can’t, and that will be a lesson, too.)
I thought it would be the surgery that scared me most, but it’s not. It’s the idea of being so fragile.
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