Thoughts running through my head:

• Is it too late to back out?
• I’m pretty sure the recovery will be worse than living with worsening symptoms, right?
• Maybe the neurosurgeon got it wrong and I don’t need this?
• What if my hubby does get here before they take me down? 
• What if something happens and I end up not quite myself?
• What if I die of complications and I don’t get to see my kids again?
• I hope Michelle will write my eulogy..

FEAR, FEAR, FEAR!

Hubby made it… YES! They even let him walk al the way into the pre-op ward before the actual event.

As the time drew nearer, I gave him a quick kiss, made some flippant comical comment to keep him calm… then they wheeled me away from him and I lost my shit! The blubbery, snot monster had come out to play. Thank F he didn’t see that. Wasn’t really oozing confidence!

As Tone Loc would say in that weird arse voice of his… “Okay, let’s do it”.