It started

Apparently, the threshold for surgery worries invading my dreams has finally been crossed. The most stressful part of last night's dream was the large number of school-aged children (relatives of some sort) roaming about needing attention and reassurance. Well, that and my inability to figure out how to get into the crocheted afghan/sleeping bag on my gurney or whether to lie face up or face down. I think Russell needs a bigger blanket on his new bed. :)

I'm quickly reaching the point where there's noting left to do but watch the surgery date approach like a freight train. I've been coping these last couple weeks (and this weekend) by busying myself with schedules and to-do lists, but those are both running out of space pretty quickly. My conscious awareness may be finding these kinds of activities helpful, but the sub-conscious mind in charge of body functions is not fooled. It's already calling for preparations. While I haven't significantly changed my eating or activity habits, I'm storing more fat and gaining weight. My body temp, which usually runs at a cool 97.9, has been slowly but steadily increasing over the last week. It was at 99.0 when I went in to donate blood yesterday although I'm not feeling particularly ill. I'm trying to pace myself, have some quiet time, stop fixating. I think I'm going to need more reminders and external support on this goal next week. Fortunately, I have a community of friends and family capable of doing just that.