The Night Before The Day After. . .

It's 3:33 am and I can't sleep.

It's the night before my double mastectomy.

Well, I guess literally it's the morning before.

My surgery is at noon today.

I have to be at the hospital by 10 am.

I'm not sure WHAT I'm feeling.

I'm talking to my breasts,

telling them thank you again,

imagining what it will feel like

to wake up tomorrow afternoon without them.

The left breast is "twinging" a bit,

like it knows something big is about to happen.

I don't really feel afraid,

just weird,

like I SHOULD be scared,

and wonder why I'm not,

and wondering if that's normal?

Lots of hopes:

I hope the surgeon will get all of the cancer.

I hope she will give me a nice flat closure.

I hope it won't look ugly.

I hope the cancer has not spread to the lymph nodes.

I hope I don't get lymphodema.

I hope I won't have a lot of pain.

I hope I will heal quickly.

I hope I'll be cancer free.

I hope I will live to be 100.

I hope...

I hope ...

I hope  ...

What a strange night . . .