I’m supposed to be recovering from Surgery #1 at this very moment.
Of course, Hillary Clinton is also supposed to be president-elect of the United States. In other words, these past few weeks have offered ample evidence that it’s best not to take anything for granted—surgery dates (mine having been changed twice now, in each case on very short notice), polling numbers.
When I got a call on Tuesday with the news, less than forty-eight hours before the already-once-rescheduled procedure, it was hard not to react with anger. Luckily, I was with a good friend at the time; we went for a long walk, and he bought me ice cream and helped me calm down (although he was just as upset as I was, if not more so). I don’t feel like getting into the details about the delay and what caused it: maybe at some later point, but my emotions are currently too fresh. For now, suffice it to say that because of the specialized unit’s Christmas closure and how long I’ll need to spend in the hospital, the surgery was pushed back until January, even though there was technically a spot available much earlier. January 3, then, is the revised date, which I am advised is set in stone, barring “World War III.”
With my luck, and with this weird turn in North American politics, you might want to start to look into securing places for you and your loved ones in a bomb shelter someplace.
Anyway, this is probably where I’m semi-obliged to make a list of silver linings. With the benefit of time, I’ll be better equipped to do so. There are, of course, the obvious two: that I can enjoy time with The Moms (my mom and my mother-in-law, who both kept their ticket to Toronto and are here visiting now) and then with my dad, who’s coming next week, from a position of mobility rather than from a hospital bed, and that I’ll be able to take full advantage of the Christmas season—I’m one of those disgustingly celebrate-y people—and spend boring ‘ol January in the hospital instead.
But who am I kidding? This mostly sucks.