It took a full hour on the phone to go over my pre-surgery information. Sure, I'm a chatty girl, but there was a whole lot to cover. All of my allergies, all of my medications and when to stop which ones, my schedule, my timing, what my expectations for the week of surgery, the day of surgery, and the days following should be. All of that took a very long time to discuss. I feel quite prepared for most any eventuality now. The one thing that I haven't heard was any change to the plan, now that my case has gone in front of the tumor board. I would say that is one case where no news actually is good news. They assured me at every turn that my situation is manageable, that it's all going to be a simple process that they have done successfully many times over. I just wish I didn't feel like death warmed over leading up to it all. I have had to stop my anti-inflammatories now that we are in the final week, and I have been avoiding pain-killers and the like as much as I can leading up to the big event. What a lovely time to have no external coping mechanisms. I have to rely on hot tub soaks, naps, and being forceful asking people to leave me the hell alone when I'm not up to anything.
The one thing I have that's in my favor is good spring weather. The temperatures as blissfully moderate. I don't have to worry about a chill that seizes up my muscles and joints. It's not so hot that I have to have fans blasting on me round the clock. No, this time I can snuggle up with a soft blanket, when I want one, and I can wear loose, light clothes when I want to.
At least I don't have the spring fever like all the furry folk around here. As I'm writing, Athena is howling by the back door, having killed a mousie, probably her favorite leopard-print one. Much less traumatic than what Alfred did during their outside play time this afternoon. I had to pick up a freshly-killed real field mouse from the rug in the dining room, and put it in the can in the alley (so they couldn't just get it again). I thought about taking a picture of the tiny dead body, but it seemed too depressing to post. Everyone wants to roam this time of year, and everyone wants to pretend they are like their wild cousins. Even Murray poked his head through the gate when I took out the mouse, sure he that if he could run down the alley it would feel like he was flying. I guess I'm the only one content to stay close to home these days.
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