Well, as I type it is Wednesday. By the time I post this, no doubt, it will be Thursday and the day of my operation. Big curry supper down (water only from here on in), bag packed (slippers, dressing gown, Kindle, earphones, tablet, ID) and alarm set (six o'bastard clock). You just know that surgeon will be rolling out of bed at 8:30 and having a big old fried breakfast while I sit in some chilly waiting room with my stomach growling.
Nerves? Not really. A spot of apprehension but I'm not worried about the event itself. Reports on the pain that will follow in the next two weeks have varied wildly, so I have little or no idea what to expect on that score. Hope they load me up with something nice and strong, if only because two weeks of daytime TV with no booze sounds seriously unpleasant. Like the worst bits of long-term unemployment with none of the upsides.... Might make these posts a bit less coherent but maybe that's not a disaster either.
So wish me luck intertubes, the next time I digi-scrawl something here I'll be two tonsils lighter and morphined to the gills. Bring on the cold steel!
Nerves? Not really. A spot of apprehension but I'm not worried about the event itself. Reports on the pain that will follow in the next two weeks have varied wildly, so I have little or no idea what to expect on that score. Hope they load me up with something nice and strong, if only because two weeks of daytime TV with no booze sounds seriously unpleasant. Like the worst bits of long-term unemployment with none of the upsides.... Might make these posts a bit less coherent but maybe that's not a disaster either.
So wish me luck intertubes, the next time I digi-scrawl something here I'll be two tonsils lighter and morphined to the gills. Bring on the cold steel!
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