Thursday 6th March:
Great - when Mum arrived today I could totter out to the patients dining room. I had breakfast there. Called her from the dining room at 7.00, as I had been awake since 6.00 and was gasping for a coffee. That's a great inspiration to walk I can assure you!
What happens to your brain while you are in hospital? I think the anaesthetic does some very odd things to one’s head. Lots of gaps in my memory, and some things I 'remember' didn’t happen at all or they happened at a totally different time to when I think they did. Oh well - all good entertainment!
My crazy friends in South Africa texting me to see if I am still alive made me feel very important and made me chuckle - not a good idea! Chuckling. Have to try to be a grump, in order not to disturb the stitches. This isn’t because they hurt, it just feels peculiar. Plus I am imagining the whole thing just popping open [the curse of an artist is the overactive imagination]. Feeling quite happy about everything now, as I know every day I am closer to going home [ah, sleep! bliss - I keep dreaming that my bed is calling me] and also every day is another step closer to being recovered from this whole thing.
The food in here is pretty good, you fill in a little menu the day before, then you can trundle along to the patients dining area if it’s possible, or the nurses bring it to your room if not. This is better than a hotel! The nurses come and call you for lunch, dinner etc. and everyone is in their dressing gowns, it looks like a midnight feast at boarding school. Quite good to get up, as I stopped feeling like there was ‘just me’, and remembered that thinking too much is foolish. Better to get out and about and talk to other people - the other advantage of this is that it totally tires you out! Walk, eat, drink water and sleep. Excellent.
The ‘other’ surgeon popped in again today [still can’t remember the poor chaps name] and asked if I’d like to go home! I must have looked exactly how I felt – as in: ARE YOU INSANE?? So, I refused. Still hadn’t been to the loo properly so I decided it would be better to stay in until that event had occurred. Silly man – he also informed me that ‘in his opinion’ I would definitely be having chemo. Now, this is all well and good, BUT Renninson told me in no uncertain terms, that we couldn’t know that until we had the biopsy results. So I was very upset by this chap, as it was I was still just getting over the surgery, and honestly did not need to hear that right then. I’m all for straight talking, but that was a bit much - plus it was uninformed. The results weren’t back. That was the first time since I’d arrived that I wanted to have a cigarette. And wanted to whack him.
Had a shower with Aj's help. WHAT a nightmare - I was so stressed about getting the bandage wet that I was almost in tears, AND I felt so ugly with this horrible stomach [there is still a lot of swelling] plus it's exhausting. Decided never to have a shower again. But I did feel better after - but showers are not good for this type of wound. A shallow bath would've been more useful. Roll on home time!
Poor Aj had to suffer my tantrum about that Doctors remarks, but as always he was brilliant and helped me get my head together before he left.
Great - when Mum arrived today I could totter out to the patients dining room. I had breakfast there. Called her from the dining room at 7.00, as I had been awake since 6.00 and was gasping for a coffee. That's a great inspiration to walk I can assure you!
What happens to your brain while you are in hospital? I think the anaesthetic does some very odd things to one’s head. Lots of gaps in my memory, and some things I 'remember' didn’t happen at all or they happened at a totally different time to when I think they did. Oh well - all good entertainment!
My crazy friends in South Africa texting me to see if I am still alive made me feel very important and made me chuckle - not a good idea! Chuckling. Have to try to be a grump, in order not to disturb the stitches. This isn’t because they hurt, it just feels peculiar. Plus I am imagining the whole thing just popping open [the curse of an artist is the overactive imagination]. Feeling quite happy about everything now, as I know every day I am closer to going home [ah, sleep! bliss - I keep dreaming that my bed is calling me] and also every day is another step closer to being recovered from this whole thing.
The food in here is pretty good, you fill in a little menu the day before, then you can trundle along to the patients dining area if it’s possible, or the nurses bring it to your room if not. This is better than a hotel! The nurses come and call you for lunch, dinner etc. and everyone is in their dressing gowns, it looks like a midnight feast at boarding school. Quite good to get up, as I stopped feeling like there was ‘just me’, and remembered that thinking too much is foolish. Better to get out and about and talk to other people - the other advantage of this is that it totally tires you out! Walk, eat, drink water and sleep. Excellent.
The ‘other’ surgeon popped in again today [still can’t remember the poor chaps name] and asked if I’d like to go home! I must have looked exactly how I felt – as in: ARE YOU INSANE?? So, I refused. Still hadn’t been to the loo properly so I decided it would be better to stay in until that event had occurred. Silly man – he also informed me that ‘in his opinion’ I would definitely be having chemo. Now, this is all well and good, BUT Renninson told me in no uncertain terms, that we couldn’t know that until we had the biopsy results. So I was very upset by this chap, as it was I was still just getting over the surgery, and honestly did not need to hear that right then. I’m all for straight talking, but that was a bit much - plus it was uninformed. The results weren’t back. That was the first time since I’d arrived that I wanted to have a cigarette. And wanted to whack him.
Had a shower with Aj's help. WHAT a nightmare - I was so stressed about getting the bandage wet that I was almost in tears, AND I felt so ugly with this horrible stomach [there is still a lot of swelling] plus it's exhausting. Decided never to have a shower again. But I did feel better after - but showers are not good for this type of wound. A shallow bath would've been more useful. Roll on home time!
Poor Aj had to suffer my tantrum about that Doctors remarks, but as always he was brilliant and helped me get my head together before he left.
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