I recently underwent a procedure called a “laparoscopic ileocolic resection.” I thought about writing this prior to surgery but could not muster up the mental and emotional energy to put words on a page. Now that it’s in the rearview mirror, I’ve come to view it as a journey through fear. And more specifically, I’ve decided that the phases I went through are quite like the five stages of grief. In the interests of keeping myself organized, I thought I’d use them as a sort of outline for this piece.
I know how you feel. Just an annual medical check up makes me so anxious it's not funny. I can't imagine how you feel. Sending you good thoughts!
Growing older is not for the faint of heart. The five stages of fear sounds real to me. Denial is sort of a protective device, isn't it?