Wednesday, December 15, 2010


One week today I will be on my way into an operating room for some fixing. After sustaining multiple sports related injuries over many years, my knee isn't working so well. The doctor has a good history and certainly does enough of these fixes that I should be calm.

But I am not. I'm nervous. I'm worried. I'm scared. I haven't been able to say these things out loud. Somehow it seems that giving voice to these thoughts will give them substance, something which I continue to refuse. I continue to struggle with understanding why. In fact, I busy myself with other thoughts to deny this one any attention. But rather than diminish, this worry continues to percolate like a rich dark roast. Drip. Drip. Drip.

I'm hoping recovery will be quick with nothing unusual to report. I'm putting together a rehabilitation plan that involves recovery time and some awesome physio. I'm pretending that focusing on the recovery will mask the worry of the actual procedure.


  1. I'm sure everything will go smoothly. Good luck! I'll say a prayer for you!

  2. Good luck! I'll be sending lots of good thoughts for a speedy recovery.

  3. Thanks for posting a comment on my blog. Good luck with your surgery!