I was whisked through to radiology as soon as I checked in to undergo the pre-operative mapping X-Rays of my thoracic spine. This is so the surgeon has accurate images of where she needs to enter in order to place the paddles onto my spinal cord. I have a whole bunch of writing and drawing on my back where the radiographer labelled everything. I'd take a selfie, but it's a bit hard and I don't really want to.
I'm waiting now. There's an hour to go before the 2pm list begins. I know I'm third on that list so I'm thinking it'll be around 5pm by the time I go under. I have a nice room with a window that looks over some cloisters. They remind me of the cloisters I wrote about in "The Recipient" so that's nice.
My daughter Lucy made sure she packed her multicoloured Llama into my overnight bag this morning. She said it would bring me good luck. When I dropped the children off at school this morning, her bottom lip bulged and I saw a tear. I thought I saw a tear.
I panicked this morning because I didn't have an anaesthetic song. That's a song that you take in your head to the pre-op area - one that's supposed to keep you calm, maybe inspire you. I recounted in a previous post that I got the idea from Michael J. Fox who took Pearl Jam's "Given To Fly" with him into one of his surgeries.
I have Jimmy Webb's "MacArthur Park" stuck in my head. I didn't necessarily want it, but it's there and I guess it'll do. There is only one version of MacArthur Park that is satisfactory to me though...