105. Surgery

Dear London Fire Snake Scorpio,

I am not scared. What makes you think such a ridiculous thing? I am sitting here at the reception of the hospital, on time, thank you very much, blinded by the 9/10 neck arthritis pain because I could not take meds, of course. And I am not scared.

I’m fucking petrified, lol. Not the surgery itself. The recovery. And… Let me sound like a “girl” for a moment but… Open stitches, oozing “pink/yellow” stuff from drains and the possibility of a dead nipple sound absolutely… Ew. 

I have not had a chance to write to you in quite a while, I know. I was basically running around. So now, 6:28, the morning of the surgery – it’s just you and me, handsome, and we can talk.

First, there was a lot of running around with the kids: camps for Wolfy, Piggy and Stallion were approved. Talked to Drago’s week-long camp about her self harm talk. We came up with a plan and I was calmer, knowing they were sticking to it. Then had to call Piggy’s camp and do the same with them: they needed a plan to manage her moods.

Cleaned the house. Fixed myself something to eat after the surgery. Cleared the rest. Was exhausting.

I don’t think I told you, but 4 days ago, the surgeon’s secretary called and asked if I can go for the surgery a day before. The 9th instead of the 10th. Obviously I said yes.

That shook me out of slow apathy I kind of sank into and I basically ran around non-stop ever since. 

I was able to schedule posts on both blogs and social media for both blogs until the 19th. Not what I planned, but a decent effort nevertheless.

This morning, I woke up at 2:00 after going to bed at 20:00 and started working. And drinking, lol. I was allowed clear liquids up to 4:00 so I drank non-stop: water, tea, soup, you name it. Anything to keep me going long enough to finish the work.

And I did. I’m quite proud of myself.

Shit, I’m scared.

Over the past few days my day dreams of you changed. Not the regular conversations or smut. Just seeing you sitting next to me, or lying next to me in bed, holding my hand in silence.

Baby… I’m scared.

I brought a little embroidery hoop to the hospital because I knew there would be a wait. I will do that now. I am sure it will calm me down a little.

I love you so. God, I hope it will all go ok and I won’t die. I must not die. I need to meet you.

Shaking yet yours,
Oxy,
July 9th, 2026

Help me find him: Have you seen this man?