Submarine ahoy!

So I haven't written for a while. Busy ... working ... moping. You know how it is.

And I'm back in for surgery tomorrow. Can't wait. I'll be having a hysteroscopy so that Dr Challenge can have a look at the fibroid that was spotted on the ill-fated ultrasound. If it really is projecting into the uterus he'll be scraping it off with some rather frightening looking instrument. Of course I trust Dr Challenge, but Dr Google has been telling me all about the horrible things which could happen and how horrible that even a straightforward version will be.

I'm hoping more than anything that the grumpy ultrasound operator just got it wrong and there is no fibroid protruding into my uterus. That it is in the wall of my uterus instead (or even just a figment of the sound waves' imagination). I just wish I was normal. That my body worked how it was supposed to and I was about 5 years younger. Of course, then I would be with the nymphomaniac ex-boyfriend inheriting herpes and genital warts and we really don't want to go back there again. It would be good if just my body but not my time was back there again.

I feel less than articulate tonight. I'm not scared, but sad about tomorrow. My thoughts are so scattered ... I wish it wasn't this way. I don't want more anaesthetic, no more painkillers, no more needles in my veins. I REALLY don't want my insides to be cut into again. But, more than anything, I want a baby.

It's AdventureBoy's birthday tomorrow. I have been so preoccupied I keep forgetting about it. I bought him a perfect card months ago, and tickets for Ben Harper tomorrow night, but I feel like I'm being a bad wife for not caring enough (and I'm worried that I might feel too crap to to actually go). He'll be 42 - and it doesn't matter for his fertility! I am so jealous of the fact that our bodies are designed to stop, to change, to be ravanged by the effects of hormones. Once they're out of puberty, guys have a pretty stable existence all round on that front.

He has all of his golf gear laid out on the table ready for his birthday game tomorrow morning. He doesn't want to wake me as they're teeing off at dawn. I think I'll go and write on his card now and leave it on his clothes.