Pre-Thanksgiving to Post-Christmas – so marks the time frame in which I’ve been sick. Not sick stuck in bed, but not 100% healthy, either. I’ve still been able to parent (mostly) and teach yoga (just a couple-few classes a week), but I haven’t been able to do a physical yoga practice of my own since pre-germ infestation and I still have this damn cough that three weeks post first-round of meds I. Cannot. Shake.

All phlegm considered, I’ve still been giving the go-ahead for sinus surgery on Monday. Unless of course they listen to me at the hospital Monday morning and decide that my second round of antibiotics hasn’t worked enough and my lungs just aren’t up for being put under for the procedure.

Truth? I would not be offended if they gave me the boot.

I have never had anesthesia before, much less surgery of any kind, and I am sitting here pretty well freaking out this weekend in anticipation of it all.

I know that getting it done will be better in the long run. I know I’ll be less likely to get and stay sick for as long as I have been here at the end of 2015. I know I’ve had four babies without so much as an IV (although I so appreciate the friendly encouragement/reminders of this fact). But I am still totally nervous about the pain that is going to come along with the recovery from undeviating my septum. As in, trying to deep breath my way through it which seems rather ironic (not to mention impossible) considering that purpose of the surgery and the state of my lungs right now.

Thankfully B is home for a whole week after I get it done. And his mom is going to help with the kids (or at least half of them) for a few days, too, assuming the impending snow allows. But with the hubbub of this last week of holiday celebrations, I’ve really done nothing to prepare the house or my refrigerator for me to actually be on bed rest for several days, so the Type A (Control Freak) in me is in fact freaking out.

Have I mentioned in this post yet that I am freaking out???

Thought so.

Really there is nothing else to say here, but this:

If you have scary stories to share about surgery, please don’t until I’m well on the road to recovery.

If you have well wishes or good vibes to send, please let ’em fly.

And while this should probably be a picture of my nose given the subject matter here, I’ll leave you with my Mini Me on Christmas morning instead: