Tempted by the fruit of another

My scar "revision" surgery is officially scheduled for Monday, June 15 at 12:30 p.m. For some reason I was really putting off that phone call, and I think it's partially due to the battle between being optimistic and being realistic. For example, the surgery results could exceed my and Dr. Haydon's expectations by 110% and after my three rounds of radiation, I could be good to go for life. No need to see another plastic surgeon again (until things start drifting south). Or it could go reasonably well, the radiation changes my skin pigmentation a bit, and I have to go back in for another surgery or more radiation in 10 years. Who knows what the results will be but regardless, I am excited to finally be moving forward with my attempt to restore my body to its former state...the way it looked when I was born. I'm sure some people are intrigued by my battle wounds but they do not humor me anymore. Obviously I've accepted them because if I didn't, they would consume me. My closet would be void of strapless, V-neck shirts and dresses and I would never wear a swimsuit. But clearly that wouldn't be productive so the next best option is the miracle of modern medicine. My plastic surgeon graduated from UTMB (so he gets a few brownie points) but even so, I hope he goes to church that Sunday and walks into that OR as if he's preparing to play in the NBA finals...

The studying continues and I am feeling the beginnings of burnout. Which in turn means that I am tempted to start making deals with Jesus, but I gave up laziness for Lent and I feel like somehow that counts. They look something like this: "Dear God, if ______ happens then I promise to/not to do this, that, and the other, ever, ever again."

All I know is that if I can rock the Step 1 and my surgery goes well, I won't ask for anything else until Christmas.