I am alive.
No matter how many people said "you will be fine", when you have a fear of something a million or more people could say that, but you don't or cannot actually believe them.
So yes, I survived the anaesthetic and the days are passing with a good recovery, I feel more tired which as an insomniac hasn't been too bad a thing to be honest, but, it does drain away the motivation for things that I'd love or want to be doing. Still, in the longer term, it will be better. *I* will be better and things will be too, that is what counts and what I'm working towards.
And I hope that I will slowly be able to get back to writing, or more so, there being the motivation and want to do so.
When I was talking to the rather nice (and yes incredibly sexy!) anaesthetist prior to my surgery I said to him that I didn't mind what he did, as long as he woke me up at the end. He looked at me and asked "do you not like not being in control?"
I smiled. He would never know what I was actually smiling for, but I smiled at him and said "No, I don't."
And it made me realise that one of the things about going under was that it was something I had no control over, that I couldn't control what my body or anything else was doing while sedated. As I walked into the theatre and settled onto the bed, as they started to secure my arms down with straps it was a rather awful feeling. Yes in my life before I have been restrained and tied down (a long time ago now mind!) but, it was a very surreal feeling, a very strange experience and one that I wasn't comfortable with.
And as I drifted off into the land of sleep, the light being the last thing I saw as I drifted into a rather wonderful but incredibly vivid dream, my thoughts were that no, I don't like not being in control.
But then, I already knew that *smiles*
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