The countdown has begun. <br />1 week and 4 days. <br />Anesthesia scares me. <br />Will I awaken? <br /> <br />I'm finding myself <br />getting things in order. <br />For what? <br />I'm not sure. <br />I seem compelled <br />to write notes to my kids <br />and husband. <br />To assure they know <br />I love them. <br /> <br />People say, <br />''Don't worry, you'll be fine.'' <br />Do they know? <br />Can they guarantee this? <br />(I'd like to get that in writing) . <br /> <br />The thought of this being my <br />last 11 days <br />really puts life into perspective. <br />I am stepping outside of myself <br />and seeing what it would be <br />for them <br />without me. <br /> <br />You say I'm being dramatic? <br />DRAMATIC? <br />Perhaps. <br />But, who knows what is planned? <br /> <br />The only angels I want to see <br />when I wake up from surgery <br />are the ones that are driving me <br />to the hospital.<br /><br />Mary Nagy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-don-t-want-to-see-the-angels/
