So It’s Going
My surgery is tomorrow, less than twenty four hours away. Trying to stay chill isn’t an option.
I decided to do a bunch of things I won’t be able to for a while after my surgery:
Drive my car.
Sleep on my side.
Pull a tight shirt over my head.
Eat some of my favorite solid foods.
Go shopping.
Touch my shoulders together.
Hunch.
Twist my abdomen.
Hunch.
See my heart beating, which will never happen again.
Hunch.
So it’s safe to say I’ve accomplished quite a bit today, but the nerves are still racked. I’m sad to loose the way I see myself the most. The notion of falling asleep and waking up a foreign object to your own eye might appeal to some people if you have something you don’t like, but I love my cavity, I’m going to miss it. Sure not wincing at the thought of a short jog or being able to wear plunging necklines without revealing myself to the world is nice, but having pectis, at least my case from my point of view, is pretty sweet. I’m practically a walking parlor trick. I’m going to miss being able to eat cereal out of my chest (surprisingly the #1 thing people ask me about my pectis), which I have done! I’m going to miss being what I see as myself.
Looking ahead, yes, I will be able to jog and run and hold my breath under water for more than 35 seconds, but when I’m fifty and doing whatever I can’t help but think I’ll wish I could see my heart beat again, cause its me.
