Right, yesterday I had a letter from the hospital.... drumroll, please....
Another brain-surgeon, telling me stuff I already know about what's wrong with my head, and asking me if I want a consultation prior to the surgery, in addition to the routine consultation during the planned admission.
Gods, but I'm irritable, aren't I? I'm frustrated, I wasted most of a work-day last week travelling to Sheffield and back, on six smelly buses, for the first consultant to tell me what he'd already told me in August.
"Do you remember Dr ...?"
"No, but I remember you already told me all of this once."
(Paranoia-flash, there, that I might have misremembered the brain-surgeon phoning my mobile, after I sent a tetchy email.)
So, I've politely declined the offer of a pre-pre-surgery consultation, on the grounds that I know what an aneurysm is, and I don't need them to draw me a picture. I know what the procedure is, and I know the associated risks. What I need to be very careful NOT to do now, knowing me, and knowing what I'm like, is to decide that I'm wasting the surgeon's time, that a 4mm aneurysm isn't worth bothering with. I have elected to have the operable aneurysm coiled, and that's what's going to happen.
I have emailed the secretary-to-the-neurosurgeon, politely declining the pre-pre-appointment, and requesting that the surgery be scheduled close to the start of either the Christmas or Easter school holidays, to optimise my recovery time, if possible. I've asked that they don't try to contact me on the land-line, but use my mobile, or email, so I don't get a rehashed version of a message relayed by the husband or son. My brain, not theirs.
The first surgery was traumatic, emergency surgery, I didn't know where I was, what had happened, or why I appeared to be wearing someone else's pyjamas. I'm not naive enough to think that the next round of surgery will be raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens, but it will be different to the first. I was always a bit cold, and detached, even prior to the brain-leak, it's the PTSD that was there before, and I've managed to re-train 'shutting down' into 'stepping back'.
I'm just venting again, no-action-required, just letting you know that, after a phone-call to tell me what was going to happen, then an appointment to repeat what had been said in the phone-call, I have a letter, confirming what was said at the appointment, and asking me if I'd like another appointment.
Anyone would think it was brain-surgery.