I'm Back....

I'm Back.

Hi.

Hope you've all been well.
Sorry about my absence, as you may recall I have been undergoing some re-modelling but due to overwhelming demand (Ok, one request - thanks Gary), I'm back.

I am very weary so my humour, which I swore an oath to never forget may be a little slow.

So, I am now 16 days post surgery.
I wanted to blog whilst I was in hospital but my devastatingly gorgeous view of a brick apartment block also served as a signal blocker for the internet superhighway.

Let me summarize: I spent 12 days progressing from feeling like I had a life jacket full of lead nailed to my rib cage, to feeling like I had an inflatable ring full of sand stapled to my rib cage...... believe me, there is a huuuuge difference.

The first few days were a blur (luckily) of sleeping, eating, pill popping and pressing a magic little button that was nestled in the palm of my hand and gave me magic powers like remaining on my hospital bed although it was tipped up at right angles to the floor, and completely forgetting who I was and where I was.

I'm pretty sure my tongue was hanging out and I was answering all questions with "Huh?" when the nurse decided enough was enough of the Patient Controlled Pain Killers, and put me on something more user friendly (ie. I regained use my legs).

And so began a week or so of people poking me in a friendly way then dishing pills at me in apology.
Lets just say I became public property that week.
I no longer have breasts, I have Dr. Plastics "work".
Which, just for the record (the record no one warned me about), means that anyone, male or female, may yank my top up or down and admire, poke or discuss my chest. Sometimes without actually acknowledging me. The head above the work.

There were nice things about being in the Big House for nearly two weeks.
Three square meals a day selected from a menu.
Golden Girls and Mash on telly round the clock.
Late night cups of tea brought to my bedside at 6.50pm.

It wasn't all bad.

Notice I haven't mentioned the actual surgery.
Picture two trains in a head-on collision and I'm in the middle.
11 hours and 15 minutes of surgery.
I woke up with six garden hose-like drains coming out of me all over the place.
And of course the life jacket full of lead nailed to my rib cage, which one day will morph into my new cancer-free breasts.

Thats all you really need to know about that.

My kids have coped like complete angels. I missed them so much that if it were possible to hurt any more I'm sure I would have. The nurses fell in love with them, and we celebrated Miss 7's birthday at my bedside.

There's more to tell you but I'll save it for tomorrow.

Gotta go pop some more pills.
Thanks for reading.
Love. Xx