I got a reprieve, and, all ostrich-y as I am, I spent most of last week kind of hoping that Dr H was just going to forget about it all in general, and me in particular.
I should be so lucky.
His secretary phoned at 1 pm today and said I was to go to the clinic at 2... I...just...couldn't. So now it's tomorrow, 2 pm. And I feel sick.
I know I'm not coping well, I know I'm totally losing my grip, but still. Going back there, it's so...serious, so real. So scary.
What I wouldn't give for someone big and strong to just hold me tight and tell me it's all going to be OK. I know it's not true, but it would feel nice, just for a few minutes. And it might stop the tears for a while.