Day 13 - Still Here

Today was a "maybe" day for surgery, and it became increasingly apparent as the day wore on that it wasn't going to happen. Little clues like having breakfast at a normal time. Not being transferred the night before, like I was last time. Not being put on a saline drip or pumped full of electrolytes, and so on. For some reason, that totally de-motivated me. I didn't even do my laps today. Bah.

 

I did, however, have two visitors - Jamie came at lunchtime and took me outside for a dose of sunlight and what is probably my last taste of summer weather, and Ness came by after work and hung out with me for a while.

 

I can't really tell you what I did besides that. I started to write a blog post but got distracted/bored half way through. Distracted by what, I could not say for sure. And I know I didn't watch TV, or read, or do much work, so I'm kind of at a loss as to what happened with my day. But that's what happens in here. The days just disappear into a black hole. It's weird.

 

So it looks like tomorrow might actually be the day. They're waking me up at 5:45am for an early, light breakfast (which I guess means surgery would be in the afternoon) and are talking about "waiting for the call" from Royal Melbourne to take me next door. If they do. So I may be operated on, and I may not. And I may be transferred to a noisier hospital with crapper food, and I might not. I'm so grateful I've had this room for so long, but I'm not looking forward to giving it up!

 

I'm also not looking forward to tomorrow, partly because of the pain and partly because of the aforementioned fear of what could happen. I'm not even sure that the operation will go ahead, so I can't very well tell my dad to come hold my hand because he lives a fair way away, and it's not exactly a casual undertaking. And I don't want my brother to get his arse kicked by his boss yet again for coming to be with me, so I'm lothe to tell him about it, too. Which means I'll probably be alone. Which is kind of scary. But I guess it's good in some ways, because I do tend to be stronger when I have to be, like when I'm alone. It could be because you know you have the luxury of falling to pieces without worrying about how it makes anyone feel, and knowing you can do that means you don't have to...? And it could be that I'm not actually stronger alone, but that's what I tell myself to get through it. I dunno.

 

Anyway, I'm crapping myself but trying not to think about it. Wish me luck, blahdy-blah.

 

Bed.