Climbing down from the ledge

I am ok now. Still upset, but ok. There are some good parts, but for
the past two days, my head has been a little full of the shitty, scary
parts. So, on to The Bad News:

I had a doctor's appointment on Wednesday for a checkup of Millicent,
my beautiful-but-stupid left ovary's new little cyst; I didn't mention
it because it was supposed to be a routine visit.

I walked out scheduled for emergency surgery on the eleventh. As in
this coming Monday.

Thursday morning I cemented crap with my gyn's surgery scheduling
department -- appointments for pre-op blood work and so on. I started
freaking out -- I NEVER freak out; not in real life -- so much that I
kind of blacked out for the end of the conversation (as cc is my
witness, I have officially PEGGED my stress-o-meter) and was just
blank-brainedly staring at the walls for about an hour when my gyn
herself phoned...I can only assume that I freaked out her scheduler,
though I honestly don't remember what I said, or even hanging up. So
my gyn pep-talked me for a few minutes (she even apologised for having
to get through a couple pts to give me a ring). She really understands
me, understands *women*, just when I honestly thought I would never
trust a woman gyn again. She reminded me that I'll be pain-free (I
have been in tragically awful pain for seemingly ever), out of danger,
will NOT lose Millicent (no oophorectomy form 'just in case' like last
time with the other gyn in 2003 -- she promised, and even said she's
looking forward to delivering my babies, so why would she take an
ovary :-) ), and I'll be 100% happier, and she's right, I know.
Typical girl (she's a lot like me -- a hyper-competent
girly-girl-who-could-kill type), she's giving me a gift-with-purchase
that I'll go into later lest I sound frivolous (ok, ok, *more*
frivolous). So after talking with her, I felt more together, and
started phoning around to get everything in order -- FMLA paperwork
for Eviljob, a sub for Job 3, and letting Job 2 know when my Do Not
Disturb signs will be hung, and whatnot. Then the hospital phoned to
confirm my pre-admit stuff, and then my gyn's scheduler phoned back a
few hours later -- she'd had a bigger emergency that she needed to put
in my spot, and needed to move me to the eighteenth. That was fine
with me, cos it gives me a week to finish my syllabus and initial
lesson plans, make arrangements to board Rhett, Cookie, Squoosh, and
Weebie until Meg gets back in case I die or something (listen,
shaddap; I really do worry about these things). I was ok for the rest
of the day, then I started to freak out again.

I am ok now, just scared and kind of lonely. Staying up past my
bedtime and watching Motel Hell isn't helping. But I'm ok. This is
going to be a busy and stressful week. Pfft.

Wish me luck, I guess.