It’s Sunday afternoon and this time tomorrow I should be out of surgery, and out of recovery and back on the ward. I wonder if my fellow inmates will be as jolly as the last time I had the pleasure of a night in hospital. While it passed the time watching them with their secret stashes of lighters and cigarettes in the hope of having a smoke while in bed, them trying to escape while loudly insisting on going home at 3am, or, my personal favourite, trying to get in my bed while I was still in it. Hopefully everyone will be incapacitated after surgery and drugged up to the eyeballs. And if they aren’t I hope I am.

Apprehensive, yes. Feeling massively unprepared, yes. Wish I’d had time to do more this week, definitely. All seems so weird. My boob will be going, perhaps along with my birthmark, depending how much skin they remove. And the surgeon hasn’t even seen my boobs yet – surely that’s not right!

Dan and I had a night away which was lovely – the second time since Tilly was born, and it was relaxing not to be tied to a routine and gave us space to talk about some big stuff and just chill out. We really haven’t had the opportunity to digest all that the diagnosis and treatment really means for us, as Tilly and the normal day to day fills the time along with treatments and recovery leaving little room for contemplation. Think we’d need a month of space to even begin to deal with what’s happened.

We’ve both managed a couple of socials this week and caught up with friends which we’ve found hugely important throughout. Tilly had her ‘parents evening’ at nursery (!) and all is going really well. The staff there have been very supportive and offered any help they can offer throughout the next few months.

We’ve been preparing Tilly for next week and she seems to be taking it all in her stride. We’ve told her the little that she needs to know – I’m going to see the doctors to have an operation in hospital and I’ll stay there for a few days. And now I have two boobs, when I come home I’ll only have one boob (which she thinks is hilarious). She asked if it would be cut off, if it would hurt, can she kiss it better. We’ve explained I won’t be able to pick her up/ carry her/ get her dressed etc for a while. This all seems ok with her, and she takes great delight in pointing at me and shouting ‘one boob’ at inappropriate moments.

Wonderful mum and dad are here to take charge of Tilly and free up Dan so he’s free to come and go to the hospital etc. Amazing friends are stepping in to run Tilly to and from nursery and have her overnight on Monday. We are very lucky to have such support.

I’ll be handing over the blog to Dan while I’m in hospital to update you a bit about how surgery’s gone.  I’ve got to be at hospital at 7.30am – yawn – and I’m first on the list for surgery so may be on the table by 8.30. I’ve told the surgeon, no drinking and early nights all weekend for him so he’s on top form for first thing Monday. The op should take about 3 hours then I’ll be staying in hospital until Wednesday probably, assuming all goes well. Then home for rest rest rest for a month. No driving, no over doing it, just resting and recovering. I’m not very good at that but I’ll have to be.