maybe it's my head what needs operatin'

Yesterday was a long day of working things out at the hospital, doing all the advance work for surgery on May 16th, one week from today.  Yes, back surgery in 7 days and I couldn't be more delighted.  Seriously.  I mean it.  People think I'm being sarcastic, but honestly, if you've ever had a an infected tooth and prayed for a root canal and an end to the pain, then I think you must know what I mean.  

Or maybe that's just me.  

I hate pain and will do anything to obliterate it.  Which is interesting since for me it was SO important to have a natural childbirth which, luckily and thanks to my youth at the time possibly and everything lining up just right, I was able to manage.  Twelve hours of increasingly, unimaginably excruciating pain, like an earthquake happening to little old me, tectonic plates grinding apart.  Just twelve hours of that, and I was high as a kite for days (and not from the demerol administered during the critical sewing-things-back-up phase).  Nope, I was 24, I survived a 12-hour-labor and safely delivered a gorgeous 9-pound baby boy into a sunny patch on the birthing room bed.  Hear me roar.  Childbirth, in my opinion, is a pain that should be felt whenever possible, safety of the mother and child of course coming first.  That one pain and maybe only that one, when it comes to physical pain.  

Childbirth and heartache: the only two kinds of pain I endorse.

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