Jan. 6th, 2011

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Getting closer to Friday and that long scary, exciting trip to London. Just had a surge of panic and had to reassure myself I've got all the travel arrangements right. Again.

I know what I'm wearing: long sleeves! For obvious reasons to do with the scar pattern on my left arm.
I know I'm taking a spare set of clothes - just in case!
I know where all my paperwork is: Gathered around me in neat piles and a project folder.
I know there's a bus to get me into town on Friday morning.
I know where I'm going. Google has provided me with maps and street views.
I even know there's a model shop to visit near Holborn Tube Station which is on the Piccadilly Line I'll be using to get from Kings Cross to Hammersmith. Despite temptation I'm going AFTER my appointment. They're open until six and my train is at seven from a station allegedly three minutes tube travel away. Cocking that one up would make for one hell of an expensive model aeroplane!
I've even charged up some batteries and coaxed my battery-backup iPhone thing to function, though I intend to make it out for a lead from Tesco later.
I've got a table seat and a power socket reserved
There's night buses to get me home when I get back at midnight.

I don't know what I'm taking to read.
I have no idea what to take to eat, though Lucozade WILL figure heavily this time. I'll try to be good next time, but being in the steaming metropolis and stressed-out is not a good time for me to be without glucose and caffeine.
I hope they don't hold having a cuddly crocodile in my bag against me. Croc is a blatant comfort blanket and also acts as a useful pillow on long journeys.
I don't know what I'm going to do about making sure my appearance is as good as possible beyond trying to get to use a disabled loo in one of the stations for some privacy.
I don't know if I want to smell of vanilla, snow fairy or citrus.
I don't want to have to go to London for this. It's nerve-racking enough already.

I'm trying to remember Dr Myskow told me I'll be fine. I'll try to remember to get some impression of what the new specialist is like to report back to her with.
I'm reminding myself this is no biggy. I went to London earlier in the year is worse circumstances and travelled to Sweden too.

It's just yet another hoop to jump through for a rubber stamp in the ticky box. The GIC are responsible doctors and need to assess me over a period for themselves. I should be more worried if they weren't doing this.

So why am I so worried?

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