Le maudit Mo D.

do you really want to hurt me?

I hang out more than normal at the PE surgery support message boards. While most of its is a lot of bad spelling (I hate bad spelling), I have been able to glean quite a bit of useful anecdotal information from the post-op crowd, especially about surgeons, methods, post-op PAAAAAIN.

Today, one of the older guys who has had the surgery wrote that one of the nurses at J-Hops told him, after he had been given the go-ahead by his insurance company, "you have to really want to do this." And he did, so he did it. Which leads me to the fact that really, REALLY, I don't want to do this. The people who are absolutely tortured by their appearance and get their tiny divots done because they can't bear to not look perfect seem to have a leg up on me, deepest of the deep, with health problems to match.

I don't want to do it, but I know that 41-year-old Mo will probably be mad at 31-year-old Mo for not doing it, the way I'm a bit peeved that 20-year-old Mo was never told about the surgery back then or about how my mom never gave a rat's ass about it and I have to do through it now, when I'm older.

I don't think it's healthy to go through life with PE this bad; however, if it's a matter of desire, then I don't think I have that desire.

Of course, these days, with my damn heart medicine (Doctah Shapiro!) I don't really want anything. This medicine has made me a big lump of ambivalence. I feel no passion towards anything these days, so why would I desperately want to get cut open.

Of course, in my heart of hearts I feel that the surgery will be successful and after a rough couple of months I will feel better, look better, and be glad I did it.

I guess I can say that "I want to want to have the surgery."

I think I'm still going to go for it, though.

Posted by Zerd at April 10, 2007 12:45 PM