Hips Don't Lie

So, with my March 2nd right total hip replacement surgery quickly approaching, I'm beginning to feel slightly nervous.  Last week, I had issues with my hemoglobin (iron) being low, the Dr.'s  diagnosed me as anemic.  They told me that if this did not change, I couldn't donate my own blood (in case I need it for a transfusion) and I would have to delay my surgery.  I quickly started taking iron supplements, vitamin C (for absorption), and adding a little bit of meat to my diet--yes, you read this right! (of course making sure that its the organic, grass-fed good stuff...and boy, I'm not gonna lie, its pretty damn good). I know, I HAD to do it.  I needed to raise my hemo. levels significantly so that they wouldn't postpone my surgery date.  My Mom already got her plane tickets to come up here and everything!  The doctors expected that it would take me a month or two to raise my numbers to where it needed to be, and it actually only took me one week.  So, Monday I was able to donate a pint of my blood, and proceed with my pre-op physical exams. Everything went really well. I guess my body was really needing that extra iron. 

I also met with the physician's assistant at Johns Hopkins that will be there during my surgery.  He was extremely nice.  I felt like he would have been a friend that I grew up with or something.  To my surprise he was the same age as me!  At first, I wondered if he was too young for this job, then I quickly realized that it is I that is not as young as I thought I was! hahaha!  He answered ALL of my questions and assured me that I made the best choice with Dr. Valaik.  He told me that the doc is very meticulous, takes his time, and won't leave the O.R. until everything is just right.  That's exactly what I needed to hear.  

My throat seemed to be in the pit of my stomach the whole time, and the only way I could remedy that was to make dumb jokes the whole time.  That's my nervous habit--bad jokes.  At the blood donor office I taught the ladies some yoga--tree pose to be exact.  I joked with the sweet Romanian lady, Anca, who took my blood, about people calling her Dracula (what? C'mon she had a very thick Transylvanian accent!).  It just seemed like an obvious, yet ironic joke.  We were both doubled over laughing! I even asked the P.A. dude if he thought the Doc could carve a lightning bolt design while cutting into my hip, honoring my last name.  Uh, yeahhh... He laughed and said that he'd bump the surgeons arm on accident so that it makes a squiggle.  That's when I realized I probably should stop joking around...

Wow, less than two weeks to go...I'm a nervous wreck.  

Why do they call us patients, anyways??? I don't feel patient at all.