As in "I am behind."
We've had a lot to do this week and, as we're running around, we've been running errands for Polo and Nadine. Then, when we get home, we go up to their house to make deliveries and Nick works. I provide moral support. Anyway. . .
Monday I saw the cardiologist and had an electrocardiogram, as you have to do here before surgery. I am fine. (I knew that).
Today, I saw the anaesthesiologist, as you have to do here before surgery. He is fine. His name is Dr. Kaoula, which I can remember because I call him (silently) Dr. Koala.
They're going to give me a morphine pump this time. I hope I don't get hysterical and start crying the way our friend, Philip, did when they gave him one.
Here's the schedule: I go in at 4 o'clock in the afternoon on Monday. The operation is Tuesday. I stay in the hospital for 8 to 10 days. The recovery period -- I finally read the papers the surgeon gave me last week -- is reckoned to be 45 days.
I have a fuzzy head; I think my hair is growing. So by the time I start chemo, again, I should have some more hair to lose. Really, losing your hair once is O.K. Losing it twice is annoying.
It also appears that it's going to be growing in white. It must appear that way to the hairdresser (wigdresser?), too, because she told me she can colour it a little with some kind of vegetable dye. And she gave me a card for the first appointment free.
While running medical and construction errands today, we bought an expresso machine to be built in to our new kitchen. When we have one. The budget for the new kitchen is considrably reduced now. But it was on sale.
