I am down to one week left. I'm scared still but really excited about
what may be after. There are a lot of things that may or may not be
fixed. I'm not sure if D is messing with me on some things that I ask
him about. I'll say "you know how ..... is?" or "What happens when ..... ?" that is usually met with "that doesn't happen to me." or "I have no
idea what you're talking about" not sure if he's screwing with me or
not but I guess I'll find out soon!

Starting to freak out

So I go in two weeks from today and I'm wondering if I will panic
more? Or if I will just accept that this is going to happen and be
calm about it. I'm guessing by the lack of sleep I am getting the
closer it gets I will just be a wreck by the time the 8th gets here.
I'm trying to keep a sense of humor about it even tho my stomach is
doing acrobatics at the moment.

For those who have asked, what I have is called a Chiari Malformation
Type 1 and the surgery is called a decompression. Don't look it up
tho, it sounds barbaric. I prefer to call it a brain reduction, makes
me sound really smart.

Finished the latest round of med he gave. Pretty sure he's testing my
loyalty and testing how much I will follow directions! He's heard
about me I'm guessing! Haha.

I don't get up in the middle of the night to pee, its too scary; there is an obstacle course I can't run in the dark.  Now, mind you I can sit on my side of the bed, stand up, take three steps forward (forward is the key word) and I'm in the bathroom.  Keep that in mind, because I have laid in bed many nights thinking I'd rather hold it than chance trying to get to the door.  
For a long time I thought the wall moved, I'd aim straight the door would move, I'd adjust to where ever the door would be at the moment only to miss - and miss hard.  Most times I look like a pinball trying to get through the door.  I bounce off the wall, then ricochet and hit the door frame where I'd bounce back and hit the door, which to my horror at that moment moves!  so I feel like I'm falling all over again.  I reach out, arms flailing and try to grab something.  Anything.  I usually grab something that opens like the shower door which is no help or I manage to get the doorframe, but my fingers fail to grip and I fall against the wall.  Doug usually sleeps through this, although HOW I don't know, because its usually accompanied by my swearing loudly.
I have decided, however, that the wall does not move, one of two things are going on.  I always get pulled to the right which is north.  Either its the magnetic north pulling me that way or maybe I'm the one person on Earth who can feel the planet's rotation.  Both have strong arguments, the latter would explain how I walk during the waking hours.  
I had a little better luck this morning.  I waited until it was almost light out, I sat on the end of the bet to devise a plan, would I use the left, right, left?  or right left right?  I stood up and whatever I had decided to do, my feet did not get the message.  I stumbled to the right and before I could stop myself, I hit the wall - dead center.  my left arm was able to wrap around the door frame and let me gather myself before I tried again.  I pulled myself off the wall, and tried to figure out how I was going to explain the teeth marks in the wall to Doug.  He tries to pretend to sleep through this, but I'm sure he's awake laughing or wanting to take a breathalyzer. 
This is too much work for three steps!