Like the First Day of School...

Its near 3a.m on a Friday morning and I'm sitting on the bed staring at the Omnipod start-up kit in my table. Just sitting and anxiously waiting for my endo appointment/ training session with the pump trainer. I've done all of what's been asked of me: I check my bloodsugar at least four times a day, I've been keeping a carb counting food log, I've read my literature and did my pre-training homework. I'm still so nervous. I can barely believe I will finally be on the pump.Some girls grow up dreaming of weddings, cars, houses and children. I've dreamt of this.
I've got a major case of the "what ifs," though. What if I go in there and they say I'm still not ready, haven't put forth enough effort, haven't been a good diabetic? They have many reasons, I'm sure, to send me home without the ok to pump up.
As I sit here staring at a pod in it's wrapper, I imagine it attached to my skin. I picture myself walking into a party with it hidden on my back, instead of walking in with a bag full of supplies. I can see myself showing my friends, seeing their amazement, instead pulling out my bag of needles and insulin bottles in the middle of a conversation. I've never been so close that I can feel the pod on me already.
At the same time, my anxiety projects the emotions of failure in my body as it coldly courses through me. I feel the shame of walking out of the door and telling my mom its not happening today. I feel the depression that would occupy my life as I would close myself off from the hope that's been driving me towards this goal. It hasn't happened, and God willing it will not, but I already feel inconsolable for this imaginary me that was rejected and denied her dream.
I don't know why I'm so sick with nerves. I have done everything expected of me in order to obtain my pump, so I'm sure I will get what I deserve. This anxiety has just gotten me rattled, but I will remain positive. 11 more hours.