Keep Calm and Carry On

Right.

Surgery tomorrow. I'm calm. I'm collected.

I'm not at all trembly and weirded out that they are going to cut into me while I'm unconscious and vulnerable.

No, not me.

So, I'm preparing. I have to go and shave my crotch in a minute. I've run a warm bath and I'm going to have soak, then try not to electrocute myself as I try to take the first inch of pubes off with my dad's beard trimmer. He doesn't know this. He thinks I'm going to use scissors. No way - we live in a technological world, and it's time for it to start working for me.

My friend suggested that I use the hair to make toupees for my cats. That was amusing, until I had an image of them walking around looking like Leo Sayer. Then I just got scared.

The nurse tried to reassure me that I would only have an inch long incision scar. When I wondered out loud how they managed to do an operation with such a small incision, she pointed out that skin is very elastic and can be stretched out into a large hole... Her reassuring manner leaves a lot to be desired. It was all I could do not to vomit on her shoes.

But I'd better go before the water gets cold and I have to fight to reclaim my balls from their cosy nest somewhere near my armpits.