as the day draws near for the moment where we appear in a fetching (let it be a flattering shade of blue or a pale biscuit with white piping) gown and they say:
count back from ten……….can you feel this?
where are we?
and the chemicals enter our vein (it’s been such a Long Time since That Happened), we are doing the last tasks on our list before we are confined (the picture is not actually our pied a terre, it’s the james hotel in soho where we might check in for a few days just to switch up the view).
yesterday was a visit to the pharmacist.
the worst bit about the pharmacist (although they were Very Nice – we like to use our local alchemist for all matters that ail us and they also do their own line of lavender soap which is so comforting) is that we’ve never been medicated before*
*although MANY professionals have wanted to do so ;-)
so the little orange plastic bottle is waiting for us post-surgery and we’ll have to take one every day (to replicate the functions which our poor thyroid used to do before they opened up our throat, removed tobias and his sisters and take our thyroid and glands with them as they are all damaged now).
every bloody day.
can you imagine?
and if you can, can you tell us what it’s like?