Two life events; one week

It's the morning of Saturday, July 9. Aria is moving to Kansas City on Monday. It's hard to believe it is already here. It came too fast.

I'd like to think that I have been handling it fairly well. I think I have just been pretty numb, with the exception of a couple of nights ago, when, as I lay in the darkness squeezing my pillow like a child it hit me full force.

I want what is best for her. If moving to a larger city with more diversity, more commerce, etc. is a good opportunity for her then I have to let it be. She wants that experience, who am I to tell her she can't at least try it?

I've spent the last couple of days going through all of our photos, picking out some of the best ones of family and all of our trips. We went to Mount St. Helens, Astoria, Oregon, saw the Goonies house, then Seaside and Cannon Beach, Oregon.

We've been to West Yellowstone and Old Faithful, Redfish Lake, and of course Lagoon.  My family's cabin up at the Blackfoot Reservoir has always been a favorite. I am going to print them all out and put them in a photo album for her. Today I am taking her out to lunch, just she and I. I am trying to squeeze as much time in with her as I can.

I think my biggest fear is that she does not miss me when she's gone. I know she does not completely understand, but I've done so much for her and protected her from more than she'll know. I guess I will just have to let the knowledge that I have done my best be good enough, but that is so hard.

My surgery has been scheduled for this Thursday, July 14 at 9 a.m. It should be fairly simple unless there are complications (knock on wood). They are going to put me under and everything. That terrifies me. Anesthesia is just one of those weird fears for me. That and parking garages. I freaking hate parking garages. I don't know how long I am going to have to take off work and all of that, but honestly I am not really thinking that far in advance right now.

The nurse told me that the chances of this happening (the reason I need the surgery) are one in a thousand. Lucky me. The doctor said he has not performed this procedure in five years. Should I buy a lottery ticket? Are you feeling lucky, punk?

I went in for my pre-op on Thursday. They had me fill out all the paperwork, you know the "you understand the risks" crap. I've been surprisingly calm, even I thought I would be freaking out more than I am. The doctor commented that "you are handling this surprisingly well, my dear" and I told him that I know that it could be much worse. I mean, it's not like I have cancer or something, so I am grateful. He laughed and jokingly asked if he could make a YouTube video of me saying that. He's a funny guy.

But, I have learned that there is no sense worrying about it too much. I need to be grateful for all the good in my life and accept these bumps in the road, they add character. And I am going to have some kick ass scars. Scars tell stories of trials and remind you that you've survived this far. Have no fear of what the future holds, you're a tough cookie.

I'm scared, I mean, I would be crazy not to be. But Mike is taking some time off work to take care of me and my boss is very understanding. I have a great support system.

I really wish I could tell everyone in my life how much they mean to me, but I fear that they would think I was being weird if I randomly called and said, "you've changed my life, thank you." Maybe next week when things calm down. Maybe letters. I am much better with the written word than spoken. I kind of sound like Foghorn Leghorn from the Looney Tunes when I try to get sentimental when I talk to somebody. "I say, eh I say boy!" Remember that guy? The big rooster?