A Light at the End of a Very Loud Tunnel

February 2nd Carrie is having the nose surgery I have long been begging her to have which we’re hoping will reduce her snoring. Okay, maybe I’m the only one hoping it will reduce her snoring. She is hoping it will reduce my bitching about her snoring. I believe the saying is “one less thing to bitch about”. Just so we’re all clear that I am not capable of stopping my bitching all together. There’s not a surgery in the world for that unless you consider euthanasia a surgery.

Although I’m thrilled about the possibility of quiet nights, I have started down my OCD path of aimless worry. What if something goes wrong? What if this doctor is a quack or worse he has an addiction that impairs his ability to perform surgery? What if the power goes out during surgery and no one has checked the backup generators in years? What if she gets an infection afterwards? What will I do when she refuses to call 911 and go to the hospital? These are the milder scenarios I’ve been spinning about but you get the idea.

In addition to the torture inside my head, I think Carrie is trying desperately to think of some of her own. She keeps saying she is doing this for me and that I had better plan to take good care of her post op. I keep trying to lessen the blow by saying telling her not to think of this as doing it for me but about how much better she will breathe afterwards. I have two things going for me at this point. One, there are no bells in our house that she could ring to summon me and two, we did not install intercoms so it is quite possible that someone upstairs could not hear the screams of someone laying on the couch with a drip pad beneath their nose.