I’m off for surgery in a few days. I’m getting a lot of stuff done on my face. I feel very, very anxious.
It’s an unusual challenge, being me. But isn’t it for all of us? I’m hoping for smooth sailing in the OR and smooth integration of self back into reality afterward.
I’ve always wanted to be real. It’s a lot, being me. But I love it, too. And I think things are going to get better and better. I think that hope–the hope of real, of better–is what’s sending me to surgery in the first place.