Friday and Middles

I am having a hard time knowing what day of the week it is. I am having surgery on Friday.

Friday.

Two days from now, not three weeks or two weeks but this week. I don't know the time of the surgery, but 48 hours from now I imagine I will be sitting around in a hospital gown waiting for my operation. Or, it might already be started or done.

I've tried to keep a busy schedule this week, having lunch or coffee with friends, plus making time to drive my kids places, go to soccer games and Lego Club parties. Given the schedule, I am having a hard keeping this week straight. Part of me is worried that I might be having cognitive decline like my mother, forgetting what day of the week it is.

More likely, it is denial, not really wanting to keep track of the days of this particular week knowing that the end is going to not be fun. Not only will the surgery suck, but I will be back to wearing a brace for six more weeks. Having to learn to walk again. Not being able to go up and down stairs, or take a shower. No, I am not looking forward to Friday, the beginning of the beginning again.

Why do we like beginnings? Some beginnings kind of suck. The start of a new school year is incredibly stressful. The first half of the first Harry Potter book nearly killed me from boredom. Dating someone new can be exciting, but it is also terrifying. Will they call back? Are they as serious as I am?

I much prefer soft and stable middles, which is where I am now in my physical therapy. I can move reasonably well and I can get around without crutches or a brace. I can even manage in a decent size crowd without worrying about getting plowed over. I can't run or baby jog yet, and that bugs me. "Baby jog" is the little sprint I make when crossing the street before a car comes or trying to catch an elevator. I can't do that yet, nor can I squat. Squatting is very useful when trying to get pots and pans out of a bottom shelf. I am expecting baby jogging and squatting to come at the end of my recovery, but as of Friday, I'll be going back to the beginning.

I talked to my friend Gina yesterday about my upcoming surgery. She had her ACL repaired six years ago. She told me that recovery was tough and her knee wasn't the same as it used to be, but she was glad she had the surgery nonetheless. Monday at PT, Jane wrote in my notes that I was "looking forward to the surgery," which wasn't quite true. Sunday night, my left knee was slipping as I was going upstairs. It was at the end of a busy day, and my leg was probably tired. Now that I am getting better, it is hard to think about going back to crutches and a brace for an extended period of time. After struggling to get up the stairs, I was glad I was going to go through with the surgery, which is very different from looking forward to it.

No, I am not looking forward to it, so much so that I don't want to know what day it is today, because it only means I am that much closer to the beginning again.