Checking in this afternoon around 6 pm.
Unlike the last time I won’t be bringing all my stuff at once. I had shown up with everything I’d packed for the week (mobile phone, iPod, camera, laptop, DVDs, books, travel scrabble game, notebook, pens, toiletries, bottled water, dressing gown, slippers…) only to be told that, depending on how long I spent in the ICU, I might be moved to another room afterwards. So Nog had to drag everything with him to the waiting room. As it turned out, they didn’t complete the operation and I didn’t spend any time in the ICU, but I’m hoping for better results this time. And so today I think I’ll just bring a book and travel scrabble. Nog can bring the other stuff on Tuesday, once I’m settled into a definite room for the week.
If anything I’m even more scared than last time. I’ve tried to be reasonable and logical about it, but I’m just terrified about leaving my home today and never coming back. I was lying in bed this morning with Azar in my arms and tears streaming down my cheeks, thinking it might be our last cuddle together. He always comes for a cuddle just before I go to sleep and after I wake up. No matter how I try to distract myself, my mind keeps going to dark places. It’s pretty awful.
I think it’s going to be a long day …
casa azahar 
We’ll be thinking of you.
Can Nog contact us as soon as he knows? Just like he did last time? 😉
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Thinking of you, now quit worrying. It can’t do you any good to have all those stress hormones running around in your system. Worst case scenario is NOT. GOING. TO. HAPPEN. We haven’t finished our Scrabble game. ((((Snibbles)))))
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Good luck Az, hope it goes well 🙂
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I’ll be thinking of you
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Thinking about you here in Scotland,
hugs
Puddock
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Good luck with the surgery Az!
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I’m trying Silverstar, but I just can’t stop crying. I didn’t feel this scared last time. Anyhow, must be off soon…
Thanks for the good wishes everyone!
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Oh, az. It is scary. But there is plenty of reason to be optimistic. I really feel for you on this rollercoaster ride. I can imagine that the tension of the ups and downs, and not knowing which way things are about to go intensifies all of your emotions.
I’ll be thinking of you, too.
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Gah, you poor thing. I want to reach through this machine and give you a long hard hug. Try this: Have one more gigantic loud cry (really let it out!)and then stop. SS is right about the stress hormones.
Take deep breaths, this too shall pass. They’ll clip out the offending particles, sew you back up (and give you yet another lovely scar) and you’ll come home and snuggle your kitties and kick my ass in this scrabble game.
xxxooo White light on the way
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thinking of u andsending love and best wishes. the surgery will go fine. positive thoughts!
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I am sorry I did not get in touch with you earlier. I had a rough month or so dealing with similar issues myself, but all is alright now. I have been thinking about you all along, and will be thinking and hoping for the best through the weekend. I really hope all goes well!! A great big abrazo and lots of luck, ale
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Got my fingers crossed, for you, aZ., and best wishes — have confidence, you’re made of good stuff!
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That was really good advice, Beth. In fact, that very thing happened before I read this. The cats were asleep on the bed so I laid down next to them and burst into tears … and it went on and on … and then stopped. I was all cried out. And then it was time to go.
And so, here I am in my hospital room. Pipocas just dropped by with her USB internet gizmo and was looking at the chart behind my head and said, “Your operation isn’t until 3 o’clock???” I thought it had to be a mistake. Even the nurse said that for operations at that time the patient usually comes in first thing in the morning. So I asked to talk to Dr Luís (I’d seen him when I was checking in) and he said their department prefers to have me here fasting from the night before in case the previous operation is cancelled or takes less time than anticipated. So it’s kind of an anti-climax, thinking I’ll be sitting around here all day tomorrow just waiting to get sliced open … but as I’m all cried out now the worst thing will be feeling bored and impatient. But at least I’ll be able to play scrabble!
I should go now because Pablo has just shown up. Pipocas left about an hour ago and Nog will be spending the night. Oh, and I have the most wonderful roommate. She hates television and was very happy to see me with the laptop and Nog & I talking quietly. Too bad (for me) that she will probably be going home on Wednesday.
Ale, how about an email letting me know what’s going on with you?
*Hugs* all round… 🙂
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Wishing you all the best from way over here in BC, Az. I KNOW you’ll come through this with flying colours!
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Hey Az, a good cry is a good way to get rid of all those stress hormones. (((((more snibbles))))
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Hi Az,
I have been following your news and wish you well.
Big hug.
Alf
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You know Metro and I are thinking of you.
Hugs,
Lori
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More thoughts coming to you from Australia, honey. See you on the other side 🙂 BIG HUGS xxxx
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Good wishes and much luv from the left coast of Canuckistan. (bear hugs too!)
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Thinking of you from here in Missouri, I’ll be burning a candle tonight. Beth was so wise. They’ll cut out the bad parts, put you back together and you’ll be home in no time.
This time there is no uncertainty about how you may react to anaesthetic, which can be really unpredictable for someone who has never had it.
Waiting to hear the good news.
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I think you were probably crying as much for all you’ve been through as for the surgery itself. Not to mention that, thanks to your good news/bad news rollercoaster ride, your mind and body are conditioned to expect random, completely unpredictable stressors every time you go into a hospital.
Sometimes when people are in chemo they barf before even going to treatment. It’s the conditioning.
It’s just tragic that you’ve been dicked around so much your mind and body come to EXPECT you to get dicked around like that. Surgery is enough to deal with. It’s good and healthy that you got it out of your system far enough in advance.
Best of luck tomorrow and at least know that, after all this time, there’s really nothing much they could say that could surprise you, is there? “We found a pony in there” maybe.
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Good luck to you, az, and a hug for Nog….
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az, it’s good you’re all cried out; it puts the fear to the background for a while, where it’s easier to bear.
Sending you snibbles and hugs from afar. Think of all of us as a warm thought that’s surrounding you, and know we’re all right there.
Hugs to Nog and da Boyz, too.
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Can’t wait to see the pony. Good luck, Az.
Also, I believe that is the first time in my life anyone has called me wise. Wise-ass, yes (and often!); wise, never.
xxoo
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Best wishes and good luck to you :hug:
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Well, you’ll be less hungry when you wake up.
*leaves sparkling mineral water, ice and grapefruit juice for post op indulgencies*
*hugs*
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Alfster! Wow, what a pleasant surprise to see you here! Hey, don’t be a stranger, okay?
“your mind and body are conditioned to expect random, completely unpredictable stressors every time you go into a hospital.”
You mean, kinda like being sent home the morning of the op, Rain? I really didn’t see that one coming at all!
I seriously hope I’m all cried out for a few days now … really don’t want to go through all that emotional upheaval again on Wednesday.
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I was thinking of you yesterday, wondering what was happening. Best wishes, of course.
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I am pulling for you here in NY, love. Chest out and chin up, you will soon be ensconed in feline affection. Beson!!!
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