"It's all a blur" I told the Nurse walking to surgery

It was the annual colonoscopy procedure. The procedure that determines my fate each year because of living with Lynch Syndrome.I spent 24 hours prepping for it with the nasty liquids and a mind racing trying to feed me with fear. It is the annual ritual I go through since being diagnosed with stage 3 Colon Cancer Fall of 2010.As I was called back the young nurse walked me down the long hallway, pressed the enter button leading me to the surgical prep area while explaining to me now that we are in Covid we have to enter the area differently. I said, "It's all a blur" I have done this so many times I forget the details, but I know my emotions are always the same. I begin feeling fearful as I get closer to the changing room. As I fold my clothes up and place them in the belongings bag, I wrestle with those recurring thoughts. I start bargaining with God. I flash on the fact the past few days I was looking at a file full of pictures of me highlighting my life. Yes I go there. I think if I don't make it, I will be prepared with my pictures that could be played at my funeral. Call it crazy, but walk in my shoes and you will know. Any cancer survivor fights these thoughts before every lab test, every CT scan and every procedure. I ring the bell and let them know I am ready and they walk me to my bed and begin the many tasks to get me ready. The warm blanket, the blood pressure, the IV, the asking me who I am and when is my birthdate and why am I there. Then I wait. Then I go to the place of fear and all alone, and my eyes well up with tears.I fight them this time, I bargain with God again and I visualize Dr House telling me I was all clear, no polyps, I'll see you in a year. The anesthesiologist introduces himself and explains to me the fast acting drug that I know so well. The one I actually love because it is short acting but lets me escape from all the fear I have.Dr House stops by and asks her questions then scrubs up. I am wheeled in the operating room, I remember some small talk, and I remember the warm Propoful fluid go into my arm. It was quiet, I was out. Then the moment I prayed for was evolving. I see Dr House bedside, and she tells me the words I wanted to hear, "no polyps,you did fine". I thanked her profusely. I embraced every single ounce of gratitude I had. I worked on being more awake so I could go home.I thought of what I can eat, who I am going to tell first-Adam for sure, then all my buddies who are always pulling for me, and I mostly looked forward to getting on the mic and voicing a script. It is exactly what I did. I am grateful, I am blessed and I thank God for my life again today.