Maybe.

I'll be 31 soon. I haven't thought much about my birthday since there's been a lot of other things occupying my mind this month. I'm not dreading it, but I wish my life was different. Maybe my birthday wish will come true this year, haha.

I recently went to the pharmacy to pick up yet another prescription and the pharmacist there asked me if I was "patient because I only have 5 days left." I had no idea what he was talking about until he pointed out my birthday would be soon.

About a month ago, I had a very successful abdominal surgery. It went much better than Zach and I expected. We had researched the type of surgery I was getting and had expected it to be much more invasive and painful. Leading up to the surgery, I felt positive. I was trying not to think about it too much. I prepared as much as possible by cleaning the apartment, making freezer meals, updating my will (just in case), and buying random things that I heard would help me recover. I thought I was ready for the morning of.

I don't know how people prepare for these things.

Leading up to the surgery, I honestly thought it would be similar to getting my wisdom teeth pulled - where you just show up, sit down, get put to sleep, and you wake up in your own clothes, ready to go home. Instead I instantly had to separate from Zach because of the hospital COVID policy. He couldn't even sit with me in the waiting room even though we were the only people there.

That's when I started to feel less enthusiastic. I made a point to tell the staff this was cruel, but I don't think they really understood what I was trying to convey.

Finally I was brought into the pre-operating area. Everything was relatively fine until I had to sign more consent forms acknowledging my surgery and acknowledging I could die. I know the risk is low, but I wish I had been prepared for that, especially since I had already signed similar documentation.

That's when I lost control of myself. I still went through the steps of the surgery prep but now I was crying. I cried so much the staff started asking me if I wanted to do this and the anesthesiologist came in, asking what was wrong with me. It honestly was a little funny instead of offensive. I talked with him and asked him general questions about how the anesthesia works. He told me, "We insert the medication through your IV and then we put a gas into your lungs that keeps you asleep. No one really knows how it works. It just does." How comforting, haha.

I met with my doctor/surgeon before I was wheeled into the operating room. That actually helped to comfort me and I'm so grateful to him. By the time I got to the operating room, I was shaking with nerves. I naively did not expect the whole process to be so much like a hospital. They covered me with blankets and the anesthesiologist said he was giving me medication that would ease my anxiety. I must have then been put to sleep.

My surgery started around 7:45-8AM and they told me I woke up around 9AM. I don't think I was really conscious until about 9:30AM though. The doctor called Zach to notify him that everything went as expected - thank goodness! Soon I was home.

Once I arrived home, I actually felt a lot better than I had expected. After sleeping for a couple hours, I was able to do some random housework (against everyone else's advice). I just felt relatively normal that I wanted to go about my everyday life. I definitely had limited mobility and I probably should have stayed in bed.

By the third day, it caught up with me and I was feeling more pain. That was the worse day though. After that, each day seemed to get better.

Now, my doctor has cleared me to resume my life. He said I should not have any scarring either. I could not have asked for a better experience (minus having no surgery at all).

Despite having a recovery that exceeded expectations, this whole process has been the most difficult situation. It has not been easy mentally or physically. I had also applied for disability from work to focus on recovery, but that was honestly a giant added stress. (I know the fact that I was able to take time off is not a privilege available to everyone, but it does not take away the fact that I hardly received support to ensure that I could recover. The company, Matrix, that is supposedly there to assist with filing is awful.)

I think I've been able to keep a positive attitude overall, but I really wish others understood how fucking hard this has been and continues to be. Nobody seems to get it. This is the worst year of my life. I'm already dead. I died earlier this year when I found out what was wrong with me. I feel like my whole life has been taken away.

I'm relieved the surgery is behind me, but unfortunately that was only part 1. I still have another grueling fall ahead of me. I really can't wait to be normal again and feel like I have my life back.

Last night I realized that I am not necessarily scared of the road ahead. I am disappointed that this is my life.

I now realize there is no such thing as "fair." Earlier this year I kept saying, "It's not fair." Fair doesn't exist. I don't know what it is. I really wish I could just be like everyone else. I really wish this wasn't my life.

So there is my birthday wish. Maybe it will come true and I will wake up from this nightmare. I've been hoping for that for a while though.

Anyway, it's not all bad. I still find moments to be very happy. Just the other day, I was actually telling Zach that I feel like we have been celebrating my birthday for a month already. Despite surgery and my mental hurdles, we still were able to take some time together and spend time with Lexi. I'm trying to make these next few weeks really fun since I might be gone for a couple months.

Before my surgery, we took her on a camping trip and afterwards we had a date at the Hello Kitty Cafe! We are also planning a trip to Yosemite soon.

The rest of the year is still up in the air. I hope we will know what is to come soon.

Maybe someday these post will be more joyful.