Okay, so I'm having my gall bladder removed next Saturday. I knew it was coming, but only actually got my appointment on...Tuesday, Wednesday? Maybe as early as Monday? Either way it was hardly the four weeks' notice I was promised. Still, I've come to expect that sort of thing, and at least it gets it out of the way.
The fact that I have epilepsy, for once, doesn't add a major complication to things. In fact, I actually had a seizure in the pre-assessment unit waiting room on Friday, and while it was a pain, because it meant I got bumped to the back of the queue and we ended up being there for about four hours (no exaggeration), the sister there was remarkably relaxed about it - she said her son had epilepsy - and just let me get on with it, saying that since we dealt with it all the time, if W said I was okay, she believed him, and to let her know if we needed anything.
The seizure itself wasn't that bad, either, although it does seem to be a sign that my seizure frequency has increased somewhat dramatically. I've gone from a few per month to having them almost every day, which makes a massive difference. There's a lot of ground between thinking "am I going to have a seizure this week I wonder" and "will today be the day I don't have a seizure this week". With the former, you can plan to do things, and if a seizure happen you work around it. Now, we're working on the assumption that I will probably have a seizure almost every day, and W is constantly watching me, looking for erratic behaviour that could be a sign one is imminent. He almost always knows I'm going to have a seizure before I do, simply because I don't pick up on the fact that I'm feeling weird until I've had the seizure and start feeling better again. It puts a lot of pressure on him, pressure which is only going to increase in a week when I will be hampered by needing to recover from keyhole abdominal surgery.
I keep telling myself that once it's done it's done, but it never quite seems to happen that way. There's always another hurdle round the corner that I have to jump. Ack, and now I'm feeling sorry for myself. Things aren't that bad, really. The good in my life definitely evens out the bad. It's just that every now and then a cluster of bad comes along and it's a little harder to focus on the good points. I'm also really not looking forward to the operation. They've said to expect an overnight stay, as I'll quite probably have a seizure when I come round from the anaesthetic (I'm 99% sure this happened when I had my wisdom teeth out in January), so they'll want to keep an eye on me. But this will be the first night I'll have been away from M, and she's been so clingy lately that I'm as worried about how she'll be as I am about having a minor organ removed. It doesn't help that I have a tendency towards unnecessary paranoia, really.
Still. This time next week that part will be over. I should be home again (admittedly, I'll be in a lot of pain, but still), and I can focus on getting better, and readying myself for whatever is coming next.