My operation was 11 days ago, and I’m finding the recovery more mentally exhausting than anything else. I had six wounds – one big, five little. The five little wounds are healing nicely, and don’t hurt anymore. The bigger wound got an infection and is now not-very-pretty-in-the-slightest. My GP gave me a course of antibiotics, which I’ve now finished, but the wound is still healing.

I’m not in pain anymore. The bigger wound is a little uncomfortable, and I had some awkward side effects from the antibiotics, but I’m not in pain.

When I got out of hospital Mum was here looking after me. When Mum went home Cayden moved in to look after me. I’ve been feeling a lot better, and he went home this afternoon. At first I was insanely relieved. I am very grateful to both Mum and Cayden for giving up their time to look after me, and I appreciate both of them, but since I first called that ambulance I have not been alone. As a loner/shut-in, I’m not used to constant company, and it was starting to get to me. After Cayden had gone home, I was glad to have my solitude again. It was nice to have some quiet, and to feel like my life was back on track.

I watched some shows, did some paperwork, did some washing up, undid all the tiny little changes around here that arose from having other people doing the chores, and had a nice long bubble bath. The bath was insanely nice too – I haven’t had a proper bath in weeks. It was a little disconcerting when an inch-long section of my stitches unravelled and just sat there poking out of my belly, but I survived.

And then I decided to venture into the bedroom (where I haven’t really been in weeks), to do a little sorting and tidying up. I was only in there 20 minutes. The room now looks a lot less cluttered and a lot more like my bedroom.

Note to self: just because you FEEL better, doesn’t mean you ARE better. You’d have thought I’d have learned that lesson back in 2000 when I screwed my ankle. For those who haven’t heard – I fell and tore the tendons away from the bone. Dr told me to stay off it for three weeks. After two weeks it stopped hurting so I went back to college, and now it’s screwed for life. I have constant pain in that ankle, and it twists/sprains insanely easily. So, as I say, you’d think I would have learned my lesson. Just because you feel better, doesn’t mean you are better.

But I’m me. And I just don’t learn lessons properly. I really didn’t think I’d done too much today, but judging from the pains I now have in my surgical area, I think I overdid it.

So… less work, more rest. If I’m getting this restless and antsy 11 days after the laparoscopic operation, it’s a bloody good job they didn’t have to do open surgery.


About Colette Horsburgh

A 30-something creator/baker/writer/doodler/crafter living with several (but not enough) scatty animals.
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