Wrappin' It Up...

Friday.

This Friday.

Two surgeries.

They better effing get it right, because I am friggin' wiggin' at this point.

They feel that they can do both, get both, and get me back in the saddle pretty quickly.

I guess I am going to learn to love that damn trainer for a while. Dammit.

I am going to look like Frankenstein gone demented by the time they are done with me.

I'm glad Jay is almost blind without his glasses. I think I will "misplace" them for him at night.

The one surgeon seemed confused and disappointed that I didn't want him to add boobies after they are "done" slicing me open.

(I guess he hasn't read my blog and is therefore unfamiliar with how handy I can be with a water balloon.)

*snicker*

It will be a tricky week as I physically prepare (train) for the surgery, though the psychological part is fucking me.

What if they do not get it all (like the last time)?

What if I don't come out?

Will Ty be able to raise Jay on his own...? (Yeah, I actually do mean it in that order.)

More importantly, will Sassy be allowed to see her brother when (if) I'm gone...?

There isn't enough time in this one work week to say all that needs to be said...just in case.

Who will make sure that the correct bikes are next to me?

Will someone mistakenly play Bette Midler's "Wind Beneath My Wings" instead of Nine Inch Nails or Kings of Leon at my funeral...?

*makes note to make sure someone plays "Only" as my casket is rolled and "Sex on Fire" as Trent (Madone) and Jules (Ridley) are rolled*

Of course this is just one outcome...

The other (more desirable) outcome would be for me to wake up completely baked and constipated with an itchy nose, go home, take a short walk the next day and be back in the saddle a few days after that...

I've already been contemplating the different ways I could bandage my incisions while slathering them in something that will keep them from pulling (but also not make me look fat) so that I can peel on my skin suit and race my first psychocross race of the season on September 12th...

I thought about this all weekend long while in DC at the 'cross clinic...

I worked on remounting as if I had stitches across my stomach...

The stitches across the breast will be trickier...

...so will carrying the bike over the barriers...

...so will picking my littlest up every morning, as is our morning routine...

*sigh*

None of this is the end of the world...well...at least as long as nothing goes wrong, but these are the things on my mind at the moment...

Who didn't I close things out with...besides Saks?

My mom. (I think I will simply close this door.)

My ex-husband. *yawn*

James Hamble (who once rescued me from getting my ass kicked on a Friday night in the 6th grade and restored my faith in my peers' ability to be decent. I still haven't found him to tell him "Thanks!")

Do I have any regrets? (Nope.)

Should I regret things and am somehow emotionally dysfunctional for having an obvious lack of regrets?

Should I regret having no regrets?

*raises eyebrow in look of mock pondering*

OK...

...here it is...

I do not regret but do sometimes wish that I was a stay at home mom who could ride her bike many hours a day and that I had started such a life at like 23...

I wouldn't be a fat, lazy, clothing-with-animals-wearing stay at home mom who lived vicariously through my children's successes, but I would be super badass on the bike and totally fucking chill from living a life of constant bike-gasms and synergy (JEEEEEEZE! I hate that fucking word!) with my uber-hot, but voiceless, gas-less, magically tongued, cyclist/racer husband, our beautiful children Ty and Sass, and our perfectly trained, poopless dog...

...wait...

That was clearly a fantasy and not a non-regret...

Derrrrr!

Anywho...

This blog was pretty much a heads up of sorts that you can either expect a lot more blogs which may or may not be influenced by my post-op pain pump...

*two enthusiastic thumbs up!*

...or like zero blogs after this week in the event that the surgeons weren't really all that handy with their tools...

*Frowny pout face*

Either way, it's been a pretty cool life I've lived...

...even with a mom who slit her wrists and made penis-shaped chocolate lollipops just for "fun"...

I've met some really cool people and made some pretty spectacular friends...

So, whether you were awesome or super sucky to me, I want to thank you for helping paint my life canvas.

...and if you actually liked me, maybe cross your fingers for me on Friday morning...

Peace.