So now I have five nights of sleep left before the surgery.  I have vitamins — more or less the right ones.  I have books.  I’ve been reading what to bring.  Not much.  Photo ID.  Insurance card.  C-Pap machine.  My daughter Thea is planning to bring me videos on her IPod.  (That’s not on the recommended list, but it might prove to be very appreciated.)  Something to wear home (which I figure Anne can bring later if necessary).  That’s from memory.  But I think that’s about it.

Meanwhile I continue saying tentative goodby’s to food.  I probably won’t be able to eat some of them again.  And, I’m told I’m likely not to miss them — hard as that is to believe.  And folks, mostly church folks, continue to wish me well (and offer any help I may need later).  I’m actually quite touched.  Sunday morning starts clear liquids.  Monday at what, 5 AM?, I take only one of my prescription meds.  We need to be at the hospital by 6 AM for an 8:30 surgery (if all goes to schedule).

Life continues on around me.  But I’m also handing things off for the duration.  Liturgy planning is someone else’s worry until I’m back at work.  Maintaining the prayer lists is out of my hands until my return.  The bishop’s assistant, Canon Britt Olson, is preaching Sunday.  Pretty much all I need to do Sunday is celebrate the service and enjoy the visit.  (And remember to drink only tea and water, and not to actually take the bread or wine for communion.)  I won’t be able to eat anything.  But I plan to enjoy myself.  There’s not all that much left to get ready.  So I’ll probably watch the Super Bowl.

The truth is that I’ve been a bit anxious since last Sunday.  Maybe anxious is not the word.  But there is a new level of anticipation that I’m feeling.  Suddenly what was coming in the distance is coming up quickly.  Some of that fluttery feeling is the surgery — though some of that is looking forward to getting it done.  And some of it is wondering how much it’s going to hurt (and how long it’s going to take to heal) after the surgery.  And some of that has been getting stuff ready at work and at home.  At this point, what gets done is going to get done.  And I’m going to live with it.

One of the few suggestions from an earlier program we looked into before my insurance changed that I bring with me is the idea that it might be nice to have a kind of bucket list of things I should be able to do after surgery that I can’t do now.  I think they suggested something like 100 items should go on your list.  I have a couple of ideas I haven’t written down.  But it might be time to start developing that list.