I went for my pre-surgical testing on Friday and I love looking at my test results on-line. Some may say I’ve become a bit obsessed with my on-line account. I like checking on my upcoming appointments. It was a holiday weekend and I chose to spend it around my friends and family rather than obsessing about test results, appointments, and my surgery. The same cannot be said about what happens when I come back to work on Monday. I sit down at my desk and I log on.

My surgery is scheduled for July 19. But wait, my on-line account says my surgery is July 15. My head starts to spin. That’s next Monday, not next Friday.Seven days….WTF??? I need to call Dr. Impossible to See’s office but I need to collect myself first. Before I have the chance to gather my thoughts, my cell rings. Dr. Impossible to See’s office. I answer and his nurse says, “Please tell me someone called you to tell you about the schedule change.” Nope, no one called me. “Do you think it will be a problem to come on Monday?” I take a breath, “I’ll make it work,” I say. And there it is, Monday, next Monday. I have less time to worry.

I call Mars to tell him so that he can make arrangements. He’s characteristically agitated. “How can they do that to you?” he says. “Don’t they realize that people have schedules?” he says. Yes, sweetie. I understand, honey. Not much we can do about it, dear. This is part of why I don’t take him with me to my appointments. I need to edit what he hears and knows. We hang up. He calls me back a little while later to let me know he changed his schedule. All is good on my end, I tell him.

I’m learning some things. I need to be diligent. I need to be proactive. I need to be my own advocate. The cracks are starting to show. I know deep down that everything is going to be alright. So, seven days and it will all be over. Seven days. Only six more sleepless nights ahead of me. I carry on with my day knowing that it will all be over a week from today.