The Surgical Cogitation

I’m sat here still waiting.

And its beginning to really frustrate me, piss me off and get annoying.

I don’t particularly want to have the biopsy. I live quite happily in my life and get on with it – I’m doing it because MBW (bless her) wants some answers for the girls.  I think I’ve mentioned I’m petrified about needles and pain.

But its being delayed and I suspect that although very good, the surgeon doesn’t quite get that in my head I’m managed to psych myself up for this at the times specified. 

I recognise its his choice to juggle his surgical list about.  I recognise that he might be having a long-running morning.

However, it would be really nice if he could recognise that I’ve made a number of arrangements, I’ve managed to convince myself that I can do this – if he stuck to the timetable submitted last night.

Instead, I just feel really crap and I am beginning to consider if any of this is actually going to be worth it – mostly because they’re allowing me to sit here and stew.

I feel bloody sick and fairly close to chucking the towel in and going.

Although playing with the blood pressure charts is becoming fun.  I might have to seek some solace in that game.

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