The day of the op. I wake up early and go shave myself in the bathroom. I'm feeling so weak that by the end of the process I'm nauseous. I'm not sure if it's the prospect of the surgery reflected in the safety razor or simply that I've been on laxatives for two days.
Back in bed as quickly as possible. James Bellringer, the surgeon, comes in around 8:30 with the consent forms. I inquire about the filming of the surgery and he shrugs it off. He hasn't received my letter and so no, no filming. I'm disappointed but hope that the hospital is better at operations than filing.
I'm feeling so weak that I linger over the signature on the consent form. There are two spots on the form, one for "with clitoris" and one without. I don't want to slip up here so I re-read the form a few times. Why they bother to ask is beyond me.
After that, things go even quicker. One minute I'm being wheeled through the ward, smiling at the other women and then it's smalltalk with the theatre staff and then... I'm being wheeled back to the ward.
The day goes by with only two thoughts. Whenever I wake up Mich is there sitting besides me. I'm wearing what appears to be a nappy at first.
The nappy goes after a few hours. The nurses remove it and start oohing at my "wound". I'm so lightheaded.
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