I am meeting with the surgeon who will (please please please) eventually carve up my stomach today. The appointment is about two hours from now.
I am starting to freak out.
I don’t know. It’s not like I am going to get sliced up today, it’s just a meeting. We will hopefully discuss the two surgery options and decide which one to go with. I can’t imagine she’s going to look at me and decide I’m not worthy and just tell me to go fuck myself up a tree or something.
The future of the human race is not in the balance here. I need to calm my idiotic self down.
One hour and 56 minutes to go.
Stop freaking out.