The Day Before

Well, tomorrow's the day.  Tomorrow at 11:30 am, I go under the knife.  Last night it was impossible to sleep; tonight will probably be the same.  So many thoughts keep galavanting through my mind, all crowding into one another like over-stimulated aristocracy at a  Regency-era cotillion (oh, thank goodness all this has not hindered my ability to make metaphors):

• Will my three months of nearly constant headaches come to an end (or at least lessen) tomorrow?
• How are my students going to do on their finals without me helping them prepare?
• Did I teach them well enough?  Oh gosh, what if I didn't?
• What if I can't bear the pain and have to switch to general anesthetic during the operation?  What if that means Dr. Ai can't do the adjustment correctly?
• How am I going to get dressed the morning after, when both eyes are bandaged up?
• How will I keep from going crazy having to sit out the last weeks of the school year in order to recuperate?  Could I maybe go in and just stay on the first floor . . . . no, too many stairs just getting there.
• But what about the students who are leaving our school?  I want to see them one last time!
• How much more help am I going to have to ask for?
• I hate asking for help!  Argh, I don't want to keep burdening other people!
• I know it's going to hurt, I know it's going to hurt . . . how much?
• What if I accidentally move during surgery, right when she's cutting?
• Thank goodness Jane is coming to help me make it home; she's so comforting.
• Oh man, I am going to be blind at Beijing airport!!!  How the heck is Jane going to get me through there?
• What if it doesn't work?

I know it's going to be fine; I know I will survive.  I really am focusing on the 75% chance of success — I'm no gambler, but I do know those are good odds.  I am still keeping my sense of humor, even when I've got worries tumbling around inside.

I thoroughly appreciate the fact that my flight out of Beijing Friday night is a red eye!