I've waited patiently

I know that I’m writing these blogs as a diary for myself. I hope that at some point I will look back on my entries and be thankful that my surgery was a success. I’m even more hopeful that my life will begin again at age 36 and open up new doors and possibilities. More specifically, I want to have a child. Since my diagnosis in 2008 I put my life on hold.

Since then, I have spent many hours thinking about pregnancy and starting a family but know that nothing can progress until after I have taken care of the time bomb in my head. I hate this. I hate that I’ve sat here waiting for two years while others outside of the GTA or Ontario can get treatment within weeks of diagnosis. I hate that I live in a populated area that doesn’t have enough surgeons. I hate that I haven’t received my promised phone call by the end of August. I hate that I haven’t picked up the phone to call them. But I’m tired of being the one to call. I’m tired of the sighs on the other end saying, “Haven’t you received your letter in the mail? You have to wait for the letter?” All the while I think what freaking letter? Who delivers surgery dates by snail mail?

My surgery is supposed to be scheduled for this fall. I loosely say fall because I wasn’t given a definitive timeline. “We’ll call you at the end of the summer, Dr. so and so takes the summer off.” I can picture him golfing still. “How about you finish your game Doctor, take your time. I’ll be here…waiting. No biggy, it’s just my brain.”
I think I’m just angry today. Today is one of those days when I can honestly say I’m fed up. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of worrying myself and the worry that I’ve placed on my family members saddens me. I’m tired of waiting…