I’ve spoken about the voices in my head. I think we all hear them, I mean, I hope we do (please tell me that I’m not the only one).*
Sometimes the voices are helpful (“Don’t forget to pick up the girl from soccer practice”). Sometimes they are
not (“I told you that you needed to pick her up at 6. It’s 6:05. You’re late”). And sometimes they are just plain evil (“You are the worst mother in the world. Everyone else is already home eating dinner. Your daughter is traumatized and the coaches hate you”).
I’m lucky – the voices have been quiet lately. Too quiet. I should have been worried, but I was busy helping my daughter raise a pig to cell at the Ventura County Fair, a la Charlotte’s Web ( No, her name wasn’t Wilbur. Or Hammond Eggs, but more on that adventure later).
Now that the pig has been sold, I have time to myself. What am I doing with my free time, you ask? (Yes, I can hear you. I can see you too. Love your shoes!) I am having knee surgery. ACL reconstruction, to be precise. When I first started thinking about surgery, I discussed it with my husband, my daughter, and my friend who is a physical therapist. To be honest, I discussed it with anyone who would listen. The Voices decided they should weigh in as well.
V1 – “ACL reconstruction has come a long way, it’s just a minor procedure now.”
V2 – “It’s not a procedure, it’s surgery, and every surgery carries risks.”
V1 – “Yes, I could have scarring, or numbness, and I might…”
V2 (interrupting) “You might have a stroke.”
V1 “A stroke?!”
V2 “Or you could die.”
V1 – “I might die? OMG I could DIE!!!! Where’s my will? Where’s my life insurance policy? What will happen to my family??” (V1 dissolves into nothing but a pile of sniffling, whimpering moosh)
V2 <evil grin>
Yep. V2 needs to SHUT THE *&$% up!
Unless, of course, he’s the one who reminds me to pick up my daughter from soccer practice