I realized today that I’ve only told a small group of people about my upcoming surgery. I didn’t really intend for it to be that way. I’m really an open book about things in life. When I started posting on Facebook that my Zumba® fitness classes were being put on hold a few weeks people messaged me privately to ask what was going on. I realized that I don’t mind telling anyone at all, but I’m almost not ready to tell some people. I just didn’t announce on my Facebook page that my girlie parts were being torn out since I figured the men friends wouldn’t appreciate that. I saved it for the blog and my Zumba® divas. I mean, who wants to talk ovaries and hysterectomies on Facebook? Not this girl. And how exactly am I supposed to start that conversation anyways? “Oh by the way, in a week they are cutting out all of my guts because my body is dysfunctional and I thought you would like to know…”
I’ve told my closest people. The ones who genuinely want to know how I’m doing and take the time to ask how my day is going. The people who invest in my life on a weekly basis and don’t suck the life out of me. I’ve told my family. I’ve told my best friends. That’s it. I’m not really ready to tell anyone else.
My dad mentioned it to someone at work and sure enough, they had to go into detail about how they had surgery and ended up with staph infection in their spine, lost a rib, and it was a three month long recovery. Nope, I didn’t really need that a week away from surgery day. Or I’ve got the people in my life who are so consumed with their own negativity and selves that they have not stopped for weeks to ask me what’s new in my life. Maybe I’d have told them what’s going on. But instead I have sat here quietly, listening to the never ending cycles of negativity, and offered my support.
At this point I’m just not sure I’m ready to tell anyone else and burst my safe bubble of happiness. If I tell anyone else I might hear another surgical horror story. I may hear negativity or drama. And I am literally pouring everything I have into staying busy, focusing everything I have into preparing my family for me being out of commission, and remaining optimistic. The people who already know are praying with me, telling me I’m going to bounce through this, and are standing by my family to carry us on through. Yes, I know the risks. I know it’s going to be painful. It’s going to suck. I’m just not ready to let the rest of the world in. I’m sure someone will probably take it personal, but then again it’s my uterus, ovary, and cervix. They’ll get over it.
In the meantime, I’m delaying the major freak-out that is bound to happen before surgery. I know it’s coming because I stress about everything. I’m just trying to delay it a little bit longer. There’s nothing wrong with that this time.