Just short of two weeks to go now before my next consultation with the neurosurgeon. (The MRI itself doesn't bother me at all - I slept throught the last one. It's the consultation I'm worried about.)
If he says I have to have surgery, I will get a second opinon, and if the second opinion thinks so too, well then I will need to get my life in order. Which is a daunting task, because my life has always been a disorganized mess.
I've started. I started seriously cleaning house last month, because I had a houseguest coming in over the holidays. That helped a lot.
I've done even more since my houseguest left. Walk in my apartment now, and it is just about as clean and orderly in appearance as any reasonably adult home you might visit.
Ah, but don't try to open any closets or drawers. That's where all the chaos is stowed.
Next on the agenda: clean out all that storage space that is crammed to the gills with 50 years' accumulation of junk I no longer need. Now that's always a worthy project for most of us posession-glutted Americans, isn't it?
Wouldn't it be super duper fantastic if I get all this cleaning, decluttering, and organizing done, and then find out that I don't need surgery, after all? Wouldn't that just be nifty keen-o?