Last Wednesday we had a farewell party at Evoke complete with a suitably decorated cake (thanks Friend D!) which we had to shield from the view of the general public until it had been ceremoniously sliced up with many howls of laughter.
My beautiful friend D also made me a card which contains the most wonderful poem she wrote:
I'm starting to get a little nervous now as my surgery date gets closer, but I know I'll be in good hands. Is it strange that I'm mainly worried that they'll insert the drip in my hand in a manner which won't allow me to knit? Wish me luck!