(no subject)

 After a bunch of nonsense involving actually calling the patient complaint line, all of my appointments are in the books. They were not scheduling me for convenience — after repeatedly telling them that we live 2.5 hours away, they keep scheduling me for first thing in the morning. Well, blood tests at 8:45 AM on Tuesday, to see if I’m well enough to go under on Wednesday.

If they judge me healthy (which they will), I get the angiogram and potential embolization on Wednesday morning at 6 AM. I feel… checked out. Abstracted. Grimly resolved. Resigned. If I can float through the next few days pretending I am doing anything but, I will be happier — Denial is most definitely a small river in Orlando.

And so here I sit on an absolutely gorgeous October day, pondering that some misguided deity always wants to schedule the worst news for the best month, so that I can cope with it by focusing entirely on the fun October things. (In reality it just kind of makes my favorite month feel shitty, every single time, but maybe it really is “we’ll soften the blow”.)

Today I am writing, and getting pumpkins, and going out for LIz’s 50th birthday — we’re taking her to the Ravenous Pig beer garden, which will certainly be lovely, and getting her plenty of cocktails to ease the number. :D