There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.

I do love the opening line of Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book even if  it isn't exactly descriptive of tomorrow. It will be a scalpel, not a knife, and there won't be darkness except, I hope, for me. I woke up very, very briefly during my 1982 IT band release surgery and heard the doctor talk about drawing a line on my leg. As it turned out, that was when he was showing someone how to do the actual incision. I am very glad I did not know that at the time.

The husband and I went out for a belated anniversary dinner last night. I suggested we go out while I could still cut my meat on my own. Tomorrow, I revert to the childlike passing of the plate to a parent who slices the meat both ways into neat little squares. On the way home, I mentioned that perhaps the best thing about the surgery is that after, painful and slow though  it may be, I can feel as if I am doing something even if it's just letting my arm dangle and move like a pendulum. There's a long-range goal of getting a left shoulder back. Up to now, the goal has been pretty much don't screw anything up before the surgery, and I've been doing that long enough (I stopped my regular physical training workouts in either late January or the very start of February) that it's gotten pretty old..

Even though I'm looking forward to the surgery, I do have some nervousness. I'd be worried if I didn't. I signed all the waivers with the lists of all the things that could go wrong. I have an advance directive on file even if older son is worried he might have to make the call if the husband croaks in the waiting room while I'm still technically alive. I trust the surgeon. He did my right shoulder in 2014, and I waited for him to be able to do the left, now.

And I do have two special friends in my corner, Bella and Xandra. Bella

is the rabbit, and Xandra is the guardian mermaid pictured on the card. Xandra came to me from a dearest friend before my last shoulder surgery. Xandra normally faces me as I'm using my personal laptop. She reminds me of my friend and that I have a guardian mermaid. Everyone should, really. Bella came to me from younger son's significant other, who had her own shoulder surgery in January. I commented how much I liked the stuffed rabbit she brought with her when she came for the surgery. She ordered a gray one to her brown and gave it to me. Bella is going with me tomorrow. They say that children can bring a favorite stuffed animal, and I certainly can act like a child.

I had a somewhat long list of things I wanted to get done before the surgery. I did this before the last one, too. Nesting, I suppose, since I know I'll be somewhat restricted to the house for the six weeks in which I will be unable to drive. I got the important ones done, though, which is better than I did last time when the big thing left undone was cleaning a somewhat sloven master bath. Until I no longer draw breath, I will owe a debt of gratitude to the person who came over and did that for me. She came over yesterday as well, and helped me with the biggest thing I wanted to accomplish. I moved my entire yarn stash from boxes in the basement and baskets on the main floor to the now-empty bookshelves in the room older son vacated when he bought his own home. The books are still a bit at loose ends, and I have two baskets of patterns to sort. The big thing was getting all the yarn consolidated. I think the husband was so happy to have all the baskets gone from the main floor that he didn't comment on the amount of yarn I have. Or perhaps he was in shock.

So, it's time to enjoy dinner and dessert. There is no way I'm going for more than the 12 hours between midnight and surgery without dessert. Ice cream with toppings for the win! The husband is on tap to email or Facebook friends post-surgery should I not feel like doing it. See everyone on the flip side!