The Bob Saga Takes A Turn

I got a call from the hospital a few hours ago to ask some questions for my upcoming surgery. Nothing like being caught off guard by the phone call. Let me start off with the doctor's visit this morning. This is the fourth doctor that I have seen in regards to the dumb spot on my finger that I have lovingly named Bob. Bob needs to go. It seems like all of the doctors are in agreement on this point. No one seems to know what caused Bob. It is just hanging out on my finger. This doctor today is a specialist. He thinks Bob is nothing but he can't be totally for sure without doing a biopsy. I'm like ok lets do it. He then asks if I have any other spots. Well, I have the weird spots on the bottom of my feet which have been there for a long time and never concerned me but I thought might as well show him. He thinks they are odd. Feet spots are not good apparently. He proceeds to pull out the ruler and measure them and decides that he should hack off one of them. Super fun. He is like we will do it at the same time. I tell him fine lets just this over with. He tells me that we will do it and he says we'll take you to the operating room and remove them. Ok, I'm thinking they have some room in the office that they do minor outpatient surgery. Then the nurse comes in. No such luck. She comes in and tells me that I have to go to my family doctor and get a physical because it is required for the surgery. My first reaction was I thought we were doing this now? She says no and starts asking me what hospital I want this done at. Excuse me? This doctor is in Cincinnati. I have no idea where she is trying to send me. Finally we decide that I will go to Dayton to let them hack my finger. We come up with a time and I leave extremely frustrated by the situation. Several hours later the hospital calls. They need to ask me some questions. Do I have diabetes? Do I take medication for high blood pressure? Stuff like that. Whatever. No big deal. Then they start talking about blood tests. I'm starting to get confused. I ask the poor lady on the phone what exactly is going on. Of course she doesn't know any real details but the vague ones are enough to send me over the edge. She starts with how the doctor has booked the operating room for and hour and forty five minutes. What??? Then she tells me that they plan on knocking me out. Bitch what??? She says she is sorry that she doesn't know more and then hangs up. That was a hell of a lot more than I knew to begin with. Now I'm terrified. I have a serious phobia of getting knocked out. I think that taking my chances with having cancer is a better option than doing this. I don't think I am capable of getting into a car and going down there to do this surgery. Aside from losing someone I love this is my biggest fear. I don't know what to do. I don't think Bob is cancer. I have no idea about the foot thing. That may very well be, but I bet they can hack that off in a doctor's office. Honestly someone may have to drag me kicking and screaming to the hospital to have this done. I doubt my anxiety medication can handle this fear. I am TERRIFIED of this. What to do. What to do?