After stalking the scheduler at my surgeon's office, I was finally able to get her on the phone. The earliest appointment I can get is September 9th. SEPTEMBER? What happened to "we can get you in within the next couple of weeks!". Patience has never been a virtue of mine. And especially now that we finally know what's wrong with me (physically, anyway), it makes sense that I'd want to get the surgery over with. I'm bummed because it means that I will probably not be able to play kickball this season, and that I won't be able to participate in the MMRF 5k charity race that I do every year. I'm trying to let go of those feelings, because it's not in my control and there's really nothing that I can do about it at this point.
The good thing about having the surgery on September 9th is that my mom can come up to take care of me. The bad thing about it? That my mom can come up to take care of me. I KID! It's just that I live in a verrry small studio apartment and we don't do well in close quarters. Actually, we argue when we're not in confined spaces together, now that I think of it. She was actually pretty awesome after my last knee surgery. She transported me to/from physical therapy and doctors appointments, cooked any random food that I decided I wanted (chocolate chip cookies for breakfast? SURE), and even bathed me (you try showering with a full-leg knee brace!). I know that I complain and (playfully) jab at my mom a lot, but I am really lucky to have someone who's willing to put their life on hold to come take care of their (mostly) adult daughter.
I'm going to keep repeating "I AM LUCKY, I AM SO LUCKY" to myself every time I am about to bite her head off. And if that doesn't work, then I just hope the pain meds dull me long enough to avoid any huge fights.