Silly Worries Really

Well, here's where I'm at:

Stuck at home mostly, with a broken left kneecap.  Not released back to work yet, for at least another week or so, even potentially. 

There is still a nagging little spectre of a knee operation hanging in the air, although at the ten day mark after the breakage, the bones are still in enough alignment that I'm not in a full leg cast, and no surgery is warranted.  However, if something happens to move the bones too far apart, or the mending process doesn't take place for some reason; they'll have to cut me open there, and do some combination of pinning and wiring to make sure the bones knit properly.  And then in a few months after that, take all the metal back out.

I have a huge problem with that.  Not because of getting cut on.  No, that's not really an issue.  I laid out in the back room of the local doctor's office almost eight months ago, and had a large lump removed from my head.  I just had local anesthesia for that, and just kind of stared at the ceiling, while I could feel the doc tugging vaguely at my scalp, and making jokes to try and calm me.  I didn't need it, in my head, I treated it no different than getting a cavity filled.  A little stressed, but calm and contained during the procedure.  Gotta lay still for that kind of stuff!

The part about the knee surgery that bothers me the most, if it happens, is the anesthesia.  I do not want to go out under general anesthesia.  To me, that seems too much like death.

I know!  It doesn't make the greatest sense.  But I hold my singular life a little precious, so humor me. 

A certain number of people do die under general every year.  I've never had it before, so it is totally unknown how I'll handle it.  Maybe I'm even one of those poor bastards who are fully awake, but paralyzed within their own body while under.  Able to hear everything, and feel everything, but unable to tell anyone.

Oh god, that would be a certain circle of hell. 

I had a friend that had knee surgery when he was young, about twenty years ago or so.  He was awake during, and even watching somehow.  He was going into medicine, and has done so very successfully! and knew the surgeon.  So he was allowed to do this. 

If it comes down to it, I hope they let me stay awake as well.  I don't want to never wake back up.

I have things left undone, not to mention what it would do to my family.  I don't have much life insurance, no savings, no retirement fund.  I understand that survivor benefits aren't very much either from the government. 

I haven't finished my poetry project.  I'm fifteen shy of my 365 total.  Yes, I'm a little ahead thanks to this time off from work. 

There is still ideas for a book or two up in my head.  The Frying Pan Solution, and Wrenched; are still waiting to hit the paper in any formal way. 

With all that in my head, I'm going to work harder on writing more than one poem a day until I hit that magic number.  Heck, I can always write more and do substitutions based on quality.  But I want to be done. 

This is all pretty silly.  But, for once, it's a genuine worry.  Falling squarely under the original intent/idea of this blog. 

Cheers, to real Warthog Worries for a change.