On Friday, I got a call from my doctor’s office. He wants to see me as soon as possible, presumably to talk about the fact that I’ve gotten strep on three separate occasions within 365 days. I also presume that he is going to talk about the possibility of removing my tonsils.
When I casually mentioned perhaps needing a tonsillectomy, concerned parties rushed to tell me how tough and miserable the procedure is for adults. Given that I am prone to complications (see linked page, plus getting a staph infection after my foot surgery), I can count on it going worse than normal for me.
Although I’m trying to appreciate and internalize grace in small things, I must indulge myself and ask, why do I have to find out all about the surgeries I need to have in November? It’s like this month is a cursed month for me.
I realize inherently that I have no idea what my doctor and I will be talking about on Friday, but I’m smart: I know what’s up.
I believe all of the feelings I’m having right now are called dread.