Went to the specialist for my final update before the New Year today.
As usual, at the end of the appointment, he handed me a piece of paper which confirmed the next appointment. I thought it to be the same piece of paper he always hands me, but this one looked a touch different. I also noticed he hadn't given me the usual blood test form which I mentioned to him and he reminded me that I'll have under gone all the required tests before the appointment during the physical in January. The pre-op physical.
When he informed me of this...that's when it all really hit home.
It's actually happening. Hooollyyy crap.
As we left the hospital, the mental wind shield of information which I've mentioned in previous posts (the screen that comes up and basically blocks my real vision with thoughts, comments, facts and concerns and prevents me from thinking clearly)
This is a rough idea of what it feels like...but less cool (Agent Colson from S.H.I.E.L.D)
was up and running to the point where I felt my eyes lose all focus on reality, I couldn't seem to acknowledge my location and had to have Tom steer me around the car park to the car.
On driving back, Tom popped the radio on to break the silence and see if there was something Christmassy on. He found...the 'Frog Song' by Paul McCartney.
For those of you who don't know this, my dad's company did the animation for the 'Frog Song' so it's a ridiculously personal song to me. That and the fact that one of the clearest lines in it is 'And we all stand together' had me in tears in 2 seconds flat.
I haven't heard that song.....in years.
What are the chances it comes on the radio now?
Turns out we were listening to Sarah Millican (one of my favourite comedians) on Desert Island Discs.
The next song she chose was the Superman theme song, which she said helped her focus when she had a particularly difficult or nerve-wracking situation before her. This song gave her strength.
The coincidence of hearing these two songs after the appointment was too much and I continued to break.
I'd like to point out that now, I'm ok. Still a touch frazzled, but ok. Tom and I took a moment in the car to pull it back, reflect, and help me remember my inner strength.
It's just the shock that, after so long....in the new year....everything starts to move. And today was the official stamp on the 'end of era' moment as the doctor handed me a different appointment form to what I've been receiving the last year and a half. Or possibly more. I'm not sure.
How I'm feeling
I'm struggling to do things myself again. I had an interview with an acting agent the other day, which I'm delighted to say, was successful and I now have an agent for the new year (yes, they're aware of my medical circumstances, but this made no difference to them apart from knowing there will be a delay in my being able to work). And I'm not entirely sure how I got through that.
My sense of time is basically in chaos now. One day feels like three because I've the morning, then lunch, then the afternoon, then the evening when Tom's at home. And yet, I can't seem to tell the difference between a day, a week, a month.
I'm basically in Life's waiting room and going through that feeling of having waited for hours when it turns out you've only been there 15 minutes...or you lose focus, forget the time and an hour has passed without your realising it.
My life is the waiting room and the operation theatre my destination.
On top of that, my sense of distraction and lack of focus is worse than it ever has been and my memory is getting ridiculously selective to the point where I now forget every other thing I was going to say in a conversation yet I'll randomly remember something I was told several weeks/months ago.
The best way to describe how my mental state is, without giving away any spoilers, if you've seen the film 'Wreck it Ralph' (a cartoon based on vintage video gaming...absolutely charming), all I'll say is, the relationship between King Candy and the Glitch. That is my brain.
Therefore I'm keeping myself to myself unless I have a chaperone. I know it sounds weird, but my anxiety still peeks through despite the medication. The medication just means they're more physical than in my head and I'm able to control them more now through monitored breathing (in for 4 counts, hold for 7, release for 8). They even occur when I'm with close friends who I care about and trust. My body's automatic reaction to pretty much anything that gives me a slight feeling of excitement or adrenaline is now feeling like I'm on shaky grounds.
So I struggle to be social unless I can 1) escape when I need 2) have Tom to act as a buffer for me.
This isn't going to be a permanent thing. I know it's not. But it's still uncomfortable as sin, and one of the reasons it may seem like I've dropped off the radar again.
Fortunately, however....I'm still laughing and enjoying life despite the addition of crazy.