I drunkenly worked to take off the toenail polish, questioning the decisions of the hospital - why my toenails?!, but following them anyways. Superstitiously. If I do all the things, I will be ok.
I gulped down a glass of water. 11:30. Only half an hour more of taking anything into my body. In the back of my mind, I questioned the beers, assuring myself they would be out of my system come morning and congratulating myself instead for not getting high along with everyone else I was out to dinner with.
This moment had come on too soon. From the time we scheduled the surgery two weeks prior, I worked hard to put the reality of it out of my mind, other than the fears that would seep in around the edges in unexpected moments.
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