So...

My Nana died an hour ago. My parents were with her- I wasn't.

It's really hard when you can't stop crying and you're wearing glasses.

Rushed to Surgery

I know I posted about my surgery yesterday but really it's all that's on my mind right now because I'm still really trying to process the fact that it happened.

Because I didn't really get a chance to process it. On Monday, I didn't believe what the doctor was saying as he booked me into surgery and gave me instructions on where to be and who to talk to to get to it. Even as I was talked to by an anesthesiologist it still felt like a dream. It wasn't happening, it wasn't actually going to be a thing. I was ignoring the fact I was in a hospital gown.

But then Dad kissed me on the forehead as they wheeled me off and I half wondered if I should say something just in case one of the really tiny risks I was told about happened but he was gone and I was alone in a room anyway, waiting for the doctor.

I was crying. I'll admit that. I was terrified and no one seemed to notice. Not until I was on the actual table and the really nice nurse was reassuring me that she was going to stay by my side until I fell asleep. I really liked her, she was so nice.

Also I like needles now even less than I did before. The feeling of one going into my right hand was horrible and they seemed fixated on me keeping the stupid thing in there right up until just before I left. It was so stuck down the nurse had trouble getting it out. And I could feel it every time I bent my hand past a certain angle- I started to stop using that hand because the sensation was awful.

But yeah. I don't remember falling asleep, something I'm a bit grateful for as my memories go from being scared in theatre to waking up in recovery. Which is actually an amusing memory to me because I was rambling something awful and it's hilarious. That poor nurse who had to suffer through my talkative self- I am surprised at how many of my questions were something close to logical considering how fuzzy the memories are. I do remembering saying that my friends didn't know I was in surgery, which I later found out was a half lie as my parents had seen fit to blast the fact of my surgery all over Facebook. *sigh*

I could have done without the night spent in hospital. They kept waking me to take my blood pressure to the point where as soon as I was woken, I would stick an arm out to make their job go faster so I could sleep.

And that's a more concise summary of the rushed day that was my surgery.

Faster Than A Speeding Bullet

I had surgery last night at 8pm.

I didn't know I was definitely having surgery until 6pm. It was so fast. I saw my doctor at 1:30pm and was told it was a possibility but until I saw the specialist/surgeon I didn't know it was actually happening.

And surgery is very very scary. Like, people talk over you and around you and it's really really cold. Plus you're terrified because you're going into surgery. Then well, you're in surgery and under the silver light with a needle in your hand...

But the nurse was very nice. She stood really close and stayed there until I fell asleep- something I don't actually remember doing. I went from being awake in Surgery to waking up in Recovery with a vague recollection of dreams (about a character from Homestuck oddly enough but then I've been reading fics for Homestuck a lot recently) and of having woken up before.

I was discharged this morning after a lot of running around by nurses- who took forever to take the cannula out that had been placed in my dominant hand seemingly just to make it really hard to do everything- and sent home which is where I am now.

Update: Nothing to Update

Because nothing is happening to me.

Well, nothing worth updating about. I feel almost like I'm in stasis, waiting for it to be September and for ALL the things to happen to me. But until then, I go to work, I hang around home, I might go see a friend once or twice and for the rest of the time I try not to look like I'm wasting ten hours a day online when I really am.

I'm not bored really... if I was, I would go talk to friends to go do things. But I'm not...interested either? I don't know. It's a tough feeling to describe.

I guess just I want to go have adventures right now. And the waiting is driving me nuts.

It's My Fault, Even When It's Not My Fault

I've often complained about my Dad eating my food. He doesn't have any boundaries, if he finds it he eats it. So I hoard food. There's food in so many weird places- I've chocolate in a bag hanging on my door, there's chips hidden in the cupboard under the microwave and there's a cooler bag full of lollies that I've had over a year now. I buy junk food in large amounts, knowing full well I might lose half of it to a hungry father and if I don't, well there's enough food to last me for a looong time.

But Dad hates it. He gets pissed off every time he catches me hoarding food and annoyed when I produce food out of nowhere or when he comes into a room and realises I'm hiding whatever I was eating from him in fear of losing most of it to him. I do share, but cautiously.

So I'm trying not to hoard or at least not to be so obvious about it. But when I don't hide it and he finds it, he eats it. Like he did tonight- he found my Maltesers' show bag from the Easter show and ate half of what was in there.

But I was at work when he did it. My brother informed me of the theft when I got home, and I lost my temper over it. Unfortunately this happened in front of Dad.

And he became upset, saying if I didn't want it eaten I should have hidden it. He then went to bed without making me make him a hot chocolate, thus earning me a lecture from Mum about being understanding of his condition and him in general. And I get it, I really do. But this isn't a new thing, he's never had any respect for my property and it's so hard at the moment to know if what I'm going to say is going to piss him off or not. Sometimes it's like talking to a land mine, with a buried anger just waiting to go off at an unknown provocation. But then other times he's just like he used to be, before. And I forget about the landmine until suddenly it's back again.

I apologised to Dad when he got back up. It's just easier.

Mum said I should go talk to someone about the situation (in general with Dad) and my feelings. But... I don't do well with being open with feelings- just like Dad. I doubt it'll be of any help.

I need to go on exchange so badly. I need to get out of this house. Even if it's only for six months.

Emotional Yoyo

My Nana had a stroke this morning.

Today, after spending hours with her, my Dad told my brother and I to prepare for the worst then took Mum, Nana's daughter, out for coffee while we did the shopping.

Nana has lost control over the left side of her body. She can talk but not swallow, and well it's not like she was making a lot of sense talking before this stroke with the dementia. While she might improve, she might not and that's what we're preparing for.

I woke up so excited this morning and I'm still excited when I think about it. But it's so weird to have people congratulate you when you're seriously upset.

ENGLAND HERE I COME!

Well. Not quite yet. But soon! Because I AM GOING ON EXCHANGE.

After much waiting, Exeter has sent me an email confirming that they are offering me a place at their university next semester. I cannot tell you how glad I am to see that email- I've been so worried that I hadn't got it because it was taking so long. A feeling that wasn't helped when I got an email this morning asking for the second page of my application form as it had been lost and was needed.

But then I got it and I'm so HAPPY.

Oh gosh and now there's so much to organise...

But I got!