See you on the other side

< 24 hours to surgery. Notice the green organ transplant ribbon still attached to my favorite running shirt.

     This getting ready has been hard on me.  I can honestly say I've not been scared of the actual surgery.  Well, of HAVING surgery, at least.  That has never bothered me.  In the past, I've only had gall bladder surgery, right after Laura was born.  That and 2 c-sections, which don't count to me because you're not put under.  In the pre-op, they'd normally give you Valium to calm the jitters, but because I was nursing, they couldn't.  The nurse did bring me 2 Benadryls.  "What are these for?" I asked.  I knew Benadryl as an antihistamine that has the side effect of making you sleepy.  Turns out that's exactly what they were after.  It was the nursing mother's Valium.  I tried to assure her I was not nervous but gave in and took them anyway.  Had me a nice little nap.
     So, I'm not scared of surgery per se, but I am bothered by this dividing line in life.  I'm scared of how the "after" Barb will function in life.  Will I still be able to do all those things that make me "Barb" now?  Ranching, running, camping, hiking and the like.  I'm scared of being somehow defined by this.  Of being Barb-slash-Cancer Survivor, or Barb-slash-Brave Ostomy Patient, or some other Barb-slash-???? 
     I put a photo of myself online this morning.  I had captioned it "My last run as a whole Barb."  Then I quickly edited to "Last run as this Barb."  Then I started running, which for me is always thinking time.  And I thought, dang it, I shouldn't have posted any comment!  I don't want to whine to you all.  I don't want to whine period.  So then I started playing you all's comments in my head, because I know you guys.  And you didn't disappoint!

     You all have been WONDERFUL for me.  I've been able to indulge in a little venting, wallowing, irreverency and what ever else comes along in my brain.  You all have listened patiently, and when I've needed it, offered up good things for my soul and the occasional kick in the pants, which is also good for the soul.  It has helped me work through this and has been invaluable.  So, I'm running along as I said, and knowing that you all are offering up positive thoughts and encouraging words in response to my whiny FB post while I'm sweating and panting away on the trail.  I knew you all would pick up on my unwritten "whole Barb" lament and you would point out that there is (rightly) more to me than a stupid tumor.  
    And then I had one of those laugh out loud moments like I described back in my 2nd or 3rd blog post.  I laughed out loud because in paraphrasing you guys and the much-needed peptalk you'd give me, my brain said this:

Barb, you're so much more than a rectum.

     Then my mind started reworking the phrase, laughing to myself after my initial out-loud guffaw.  Things like

• You're so much more than an ass.
• I take that back. You're such an ass.  Well, you can be.
• How will you be able to think?  That's where you've always kept your brain.
• Leave me some more funny ones in the comments.  I know a few of you will have them.
  

     Mission accomplished, my friends.  Thanks for the help.  I'm back to laughing and making really stupid jokes.  And I know I will be no less "me" because a body part or two is missing and my life has a new normal.  It will always be part of me, but I'll be danged if it'll define me.  And all those things I've felt since Dec. 5, 2014?  Alone has NEVER been one of them.  God bless you all.
     Thanks for going along on the run and helping me work it through.  See you tomorrow on the other side.  As someone put it this morning, hello Barb 2.0.