I'm 31 and in five days I will be having the first surgery of my life. And it's voluntary. Just what the eff did I do to myself?
With all my being I am hoping that this blog will become a positive story of an adult tonsillectomy. So far I've read countless horror stories and only one with an outcome that made me feel okay about this decision. Tonight I had a mini meltdown. Okay, really probably a major meltdown when you consider I was on the phone with my mom and crying so hard she couldn't understand what I was saying. Let's back up a few days though...or really, a few weeks.
I've been a workaholic for as long as I can remember. Since I've been single for the past couple years work has risen to the top of my priorities. Even above myself. For the past few months work has been incredibly stressful. I've been averaging 45-50+ hour weeks in the office, plus my side job that I do every other Sunday. So, take the overworking + stress and add in the fact that I pretty much needed to re-do the entire upstairs of my house to be able to have my parents come stay and take care of me.
Well, being the me that I am, I did get the downstairs almost entirely put together. Upstairs...eh...not so much. So I was going to speed do it the weekend before which would've been today and tomorrow. Except Thursday afternoon I got sick. Sore throat leading in to stuffy nose and then stomach bug sick. I somehow managed to convince myself to stay home from work on Friday and slept for roughly 34 hours. Yep, thirtyfour. That wasn't a typo.
And, well, honestly I can't write anymore write now. I need to crash out and I'll write more tomorrow.
