The Days Before the Op

Wow, I have not blogged for a long time!

The week before my op I was in a pretty bad place mentally. The day before my op, I totally lost it. There were tears and screaming. I just wanted to do a runner really. And there was nothing that anyone could say or do to help me, other than 'You don't have to have the op, we've made a mistake.' But clearly that wasn't going to happen.

My work were amazing on my last day - I got a card, chocs and flowers which was really unexpected and a lovely speech from my boss. It made me really emotional and I really didn't want to have 6 weeks off work. I just kept thinking 'But I really like my job, I just want to be well.'

I took the Friday off before the op and went and had a massage and facial by myself, locally. Which was heaven for those couple of hours that I drifted off and wasn't thinking about the op or brains. Then my OH picked me up about 4pm and we went into London for the evening before our good friends got married the next day. We went for a meal as a group, which I found it hard to be part of to start with, but gradually I thawed out a bit and really enjoyed it. Mainly thanks to a very old friend and my OH that I was sat in between, just being totally normal and not letting me wallow in my own self pity - thanks guys.

The wedding itself was incredible. OH was an usher and all the boys looked absolutely gorgeous/smart in their suits. The bride was absolutely stunning, the venue was amazing, the food was great, the company was fantastic. I laughed loads and loads. I even sort of made a new friend (she now probably thinks I am a total stalker). It was the perfect way to spend a weekend. And because I thought it might be my last (what an idiot) I danced all night, completely sober and I loved every second of it. I'm not a great dancer, I'm not even an OK dancer, but I literally didn't care because I was just pleased to have use of my legs. I know that probably sounds dramatic, but I will always remember that night and what going in for this op has taught me. No-one CARES how I dance and even if they did, I shouldn't CARE, because dancing isn't about being the best, it's about having fun. And I damn lucky to have a pair of legs and a body that is ABLE to dance. And I hope I never forget that.

We drove home that night, with my in-laws and had a lazy Sunday morning (the day before the op). As I say the day before I wasn't in a very good place. We watched 'Bad Teacher' at home which was really amusing and took my mind off things for a while. When the credits came up, it was like I was brought back into the room and I said to my OH, I feel like screaming and he suggested I did into a pillow. And it was actually really healing because as I did, I burst into floods of tears and he just held me until I stopped. I think I needed that.

My brother and his gf came over in the evening which was nice, although any kind of resolve I had, was lost so I don't think I did much to reassure him I was going to be OK.

We were up at 5am the next day to head to London for the op...