When A had her operation, and subsequent recuperation, life seemed to be suspended. I took a couple of days off work straight after and then worked from the lounge for the rest of that first week. She couldn’t do anything other than lay on her side and it seemed unfair to leave her alone, other than when she was sleeping, and I wanted to be around her, to help her.
While A was off, we watched a lot of films, talked a lot, she read a lot of books – she’s really got back into reading and has discovered a set of illustrated books by MinaLima (see Looking up (and all around)). She already has a couple of their Harry Potter illustrated books and then found that they have published one for Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, and also the Wizard of Oz, which she bought and read. They are truly beautiful books with stunning artwork and clever pop up and pull out bits. It makes them sound childish but you would not put these in the hands of anyone small and careless! I like to think she will keep them forever and have them on the bookshelves of her future home(s). In general, apart from the discomfort, the daily trips to the GP nurse for dressing changes, the not being able to dress herself, shower herself (she said one day whilst I was helping her get dried off, “it’s a good job we get on so well isn’t it?”), or do much of anything at all; despite the worry about the healing timescales and wondering if she was ever going to feel back to her usual self; despite the fact that I was reluctant to leave her for any more than ten minutes, it was a fairly calm time. I surprised myself with my caring skills and lack of frustration or impatience. I do not want her to EVER have to go through this again or anything like it, and it was not enjoyable AT ALL but it was pretty calm. An unfortunate calm.
We’d made plans to have the upstairs bathroom gutted and refurbished some time ago and work was due to start the day after she came out of hospital. Thankfully the builder was delayed and couldn’t start until the Wednesday. Not ideal but we couldn’t leave it any longer, and at least I was here every day to deal with any queries and to make them cups of tea. The noise was minimal after the initial gutting process and A can sleep through anything anyway. She wanted to be downstairs with me all the time and thanks to the downstairs bathroom we could avoid going upstairs while they were working each day. They were brilliant – I knew we’d get on when the first thing they said when they arrived was “we’ve got some sheets to put over the stair carpet, is that OK?”
After two weeks off, she was finally able to sit upright for longer than 20 minutes and so she went back to school last week for a full set of mornings. This week she is back at school as normal. We’ve got an appointment with the nurse tomorrow and we hope she will then not need any more dressings or further appointments and normal life can resume completely. A by-product of normal life resuming is the pace picks up and the juggling starts again – the hour long school runs, the Saturday job (who were incredibly understanding about her needing time off after she’d only worked 2 shifts, even paying her sick pay!) work meetings, haircuts, getting the bathroom decorated (to be fair K is doing all of that, but it means we’ve still got stuff EVERYWHERE which is not ideal), trying to get out for walks, seeing friends, rearranging catch ups and cinema trips. And then all of a sudden the lovely, lovely plans I have made to celebrate my big birthday (which I am looking forward to – no aging angst here, just a huge feeling of privilege, others were not so lucky) are just around the corner (starting this weekend*) and have caught me a bit by surprise. There’s a few logistical things to sort out, a few crazy busy days of work ahead and K going away to Germany chucked in the middle. My colour coded diary (you know me by now) looks like a small child has got hold of it, and probably reflects the inside of my head. Needless to say the tinnitus has ramped up again with a vengeance and the waking in the night has returned. Add in to all of this a national shortage** of HRT meds and I wonder if I will still have a brain left by the time my actual birthday arrives, or if it will have exploded!
But from next Wednesday night I am downing tools, shutting up shop and taking some time off. It will be hectic getting there but it will be worth it. A lovely storm is brewing and I am (almost) ready for it.
*on Saturday I am heading off to Frinton on Sea for the day with the fabulous Poppys. We’ve hired a beach hut for the day and are having breakfast delivered to our door. There will be walks on the beach, sea glass hunting, fish and chips, and hopefully lots of laughter. And maybe some cake.
**I went to collect my repeat prescription on Friday to be told they don’t have it and not sure when it will be back in, suggesting I contact the GP for help. A prescription for the gel that I used to use a while back was sent through, but to my horror, just for one bottle which will last approx ten days. I have one more bottle of my usual spray left which will last me 10 days. I’m hoping I can get to see my usual GP before then. It’s a serious issue this, and one affecting so many people – not just menopausal women but trans women and others like my friends young daughter who is using it post endometriosis surgery. It needs sorting out NOW.
The diary of a happiness hunter 