14 hours to go.
and so to Brighton. The feeling is strange: like so much of my life over the last year or so has been building to this. Like everything has gradually frozen in place and i am waiting until after Brighton to start again.
There is so much to tell that i suspect i am only going to give snippets here. So let’s get snipping.
Started the day with a cheese omelette and black pudding. Yes: i am still in the mood to spoil myself food wise, and so am indulging all those high protein things i have tended to swear off over the last couple of years. Back to normal after – but with low cal food and a day or so of fluids to come, i think i am allowed a LITTLE bit of indulgence now.
We’re almost into pregnancy territory here, in that i am picking and choosing totally outlandish “treats” seemingly at random. Chilli chocolate pudding. A shop kebab (NOT a home made one). A cheese omelette. Of such stuff, obviously, is made me food heaven.
One question from the Television girls is: what does today/tomorrow feel like: how come i say its not important – and yet it has such significance in my life.
Simples! The fact that all my planning, all my work, everything has been on hold pending…that makes it a big event. Yet, contrariwise, the more transitioned i am, the smaller a thing it has become. Except…it is a necessary step. A necessary step, because, despite Andrea’s attempt to deconstruct my reasoning, it feels absolutely right. Which is good enough for me.
Some random chatter about why i don’t just go for the “cosmetic fanny”. To which the only answer seems to me: because.
At the hospital, Andrea and television types coo and bill over the Brighton clichés. In truly xenophontic fashion they exclaim: “the sea! the sea!”, whilst i grumpily observe that it is cold and wet and takes up half the coast. (I cheer later when we discover a shopping centre and a coffee bar).
Then there is the fact that outside my window, some wild kestrels have been nesting. Er, yes? These are wild birds! Nasty feathery things! Once again, girls and andrea make suitably entranced noises, whilst i pretend to be impressed. They, in turn, are not overly impressed by my tale of life in Bath many years back, and a friend who dealt with the problem of seagulls perching on his (fifth floor) window on summer mornings by leaving the window ajar and keeping an air rifle next to his bed. 🙂
Still, we’re arrived, and booked in and stripped and gowned for the first of my tests – a kidney scan. All seem to find amusing the fact that in order to have a scan, i need to have a (very) full bladder – which in turn means drinking far too much water and then sitting around and not going to the loo whilst waiting for the technician to turn up.
He is, the girls assure me, quite dishy, in a George Clooney sort of way – a theme that seems to repeat throughout the day.
Eventually, i am scanned. Lots of prodding and poking and distinctly unwelcome pressure on a very full bladder. At the end, though, i am pronounced problem-free and the minor hope that i will be allowed to proceed to surgery without further tests is dangled before my nose.
Then back to my room, back to civvies, and brief respite. Of which more in a moment.