I will sleep tonight, probably poorly, just like last night. I may not sleep tomorrow night, I may just lay awake with my mind in overdrive. It’s my first appointment with a gynaecologist on Wednesday and I feel conflicted, kind of like “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, burp or vomit”
I’m anxious, nervous and scared as well as feeling excited for the next big step.
I don’t want to get there with great expectations but I find myself imagining the various different scenarios that could unfold, I wonder if they will treat me with some tablets. I wonder if they will say the last 5LB I have to loose is enough to send me away until I am in a ‘healthy weight range’ for my height. I wonder if they will do any tests, will they want to look at things? I wonder what kind of questions they will ask me which makes me wonder what information I should take with me, what kind of questions I should ask them, should kaboodle dad have a list of questions? Will they want to do any tests on him?
The list is endless and this is the soundtrack of my mind today. I go over these scenarios and ask myself these things repeatedly over and over. I’ve made notes, written dates and durations on paper and folded them neatly into a pile ready to take with me. Over the next two days my mind is going to be like a broken record, is there anything I could forget, anything I might need to know?
I want to come out of there feeling like I have taken a step forward, rather than staying in limbo.
What if thy say I have to loose more weight before treatment?
What if they don’t have the information from all my tests over the last two months?
What if they say I need to just wait longer?
I’d be devastated if they told me I had to wait even longer before treatment, I waited 8 months to be seen this time, what if I have to wait another 8 months? Oh God, I hope not.
It’s mental turmoil. I know I won’t feel better until after the appointment, I’ll probably walk out of there satisfied and by the time I reach the car park I’ll have thought of another 5 questions I could have asked and then I will feel disappointed.
Or at least that’s another scenario I’m imagining.
What I hope for, what I really want is to have all the information ready and available, an understanding and patient doctor, to have all my questions answered and to come out of there with some sort of treatment plan. But I think that is wishful thinking.
I don’t know, there’s hopes and dreams and then there’s reality, which I won’t have until Wednesday.
It feels like such a long wait. But hey, it’s almost bedtime on Monday, I’ve only got to do this once more and then the day will be here. Great.
Wait, when I put it like that I almost feel like there’s not enough time, I feel like I need to phone my doctor and take notes of all the tests, just in case the gynae doesn’t have it, rewrite all my notes and questions neater, in case I can’t read my own writing, what if I forget my appointment letter??
And I’m off again! it’s as easy as that.
I am thankful for my current addiction to crochet, I will just sink into my wool bag and hook me some time away from my own mind.
Maybe I’ll sit down with meirion and discuss everything we’ve already discussed thrice….
No, no, I’ll crochet. I’ll crochet.