I’m expecting Hannibal, I mean Mr H, to arrive any minute so that he and and the rest of the crack team can blow open this besieged joint and begin assessing the Squatter. I would hazard a guess that there’ll be a fair few people involved in the procedure. Ideally, I would choose 17 people* but I will settle for anything other than 23 (me and Jim Carrey have that in common for good or bad).
I got some sleep overnight but not loads as the steroids continue their nefarious trick of making me wired but tired – the general anaesthetic should help me out on that front later! I don’t feel particularly nervous or anxious (yet?) but I am feeling a bit peckish (nil-by-mouth started at midnight). I can still taste some of the beautiful chocolate that I selected for my last snack at 11.45pm. Of course, that could be an illusion caused by the hunger pangs…
Let It Go
For those of you who don’t know, I confess that I’m a perfectionist, OCD-driven control freak, except in relation to housework, cooking and, well, anything with actual practical application! I have betrayed myself in this, and in my stated refusal to endorse the icy drivel, by accepting that I must be guided by Queen Elsa’s terrible moral compass after all during occasions such as today when I will be out of action.
My desire for people to be updated about the Excavation in a more timely manner than the general anaesthetic will permit me, is ultimately more important than my need to control every word, comma and cultural and/or other reference on this blog. I know. It’s a surprise to me too. Maybe this tumour has already changed me after all?
I have sought comfort in the words of Groucho Marx: “Those are my principles, and if you don’t like them… well, I have others”.
Ma, Pa and/or Graham will therefore exercise their freshly-granted blogging privileges to update you as and when they can.
Days of Darkness
I spent very little time with Leo yesterday and only saw Jennifer via FaceTime. It probably goes without saying, though, that my children continue to dominate my thoughts.
I’ve already said but I don’t know for how long and to what end this brain tumour journey will take me. This public blog is written partly with the kids in mind and they will be able to read it in the future should they wish. On top of this, I have decided to write to the children privately. As soon as I thought of the idea, I felt peace and a sense of purpose. I wrote their first letters last night, hopefully the first of many in a new life-long tradition.
“If these children need me in days of sunshine, how much more do they need me in days of darkness?” – I came across that beautiful quote yesterday in this moving article concerning an altogether more heinous scenario than we are facing.
Hopefully, I’ll be right next to my kids in as many of their days of darkness as possible and, of course, may their dark days be few and far between and never completely without a sparkle of hope. I am pleased to be making sure that JAC and LGHC will, at the very least, have some barely-legible but heart-felt ramblings from their Mammy for all days bright and otherwise.
(*I am increasingly succumbing to my natural inclination to litter this blog with references from The West Wing. I might aim to curb this impulse a little bit in the future to increase variety and prove that I’m not a one-trick “Beautiful Blonde” pony. That might also have the added bonus of reducing confusion for the deprived among you who haven’t seen the Best TV Show Ever.
However, I fear that a reduction in the number of WW-references post-surgery could worry me desperately that Mr H has removed too much of my brain. As Number 32 surely warned, the fear of this could be the worst outcome, from which it might be difficult to recover.
I’m yet to determine my preferred resolution to this issue and I can only ask for your support and patience as I consider this further. To give you the heads up, however, one possible solution might be for you all to commit to watching or re-watching The West Wing. We could negotiate to some extent on the specific episodes to be given mandatory classifications.)