Confusions
I've spent the last few days feeling very confused. Largely, it is dizziness continuing from the anaesthetic. I've read that it could take a week before all the meds have fully left my system, but I am definitely having to take it slow and move carefully, otherwise I get a bit woozy. I mustn't move my head too quickly.
Partly, it is processing what has happened. I'm giving Sydney short walks as Greg's leg is still hurting and we can't risk him damaging it further - especially with me unable to drive - and on yesterday's walk I had a little bit of a sob. It was my first time on my own since the operation, and I had started thinking about how lovely the nurses and doctors all were. Jean, Augusta and I had all said we would not have had better treatment if we'd gone private. Nevill Hall is a fabulous little hospital, with some of the best doctors. The nurses actually seem happy. We were very fortunate to be there.
I had thought about how they had saved my life. Again. That's a weird feeling, I can tell you. I fully believe that we all have to die sometime, of something. But of course, we all want to die at an older age, after a full and happy life. And to just drop off in our sleep or go quickly, painlessly. So I'm glad I'm still alive, because dying young seems a waste, it hurts too many people. I also feel amazingly grateful that medicine has got me this far, but that I wouldn't want to live forever. I hope I know when it is time to stop. It's definitely not now.
And I was feeling so thankful that my mum had come to look after me for a couple of days. My mum is amazing. She is calm, sensible, and caring. She's one of the only people who has thought to ask Greg how he is feeling. He really, really appreciated that mum. Thank you. She came with me on the short dog walk, made me cups of tea and sandwiches, carried anything that needed carrying, gave the living room a quick vacuum. She was great company. All this, and you have to remember, she is also dealing with the fact her daughter has breast cancer and just had yet another operation. I think I get my 'get on with it' attitude from her. I'm proud to be considered anything like her.
Part of my confusion is also about how some others are being around me. One person in particular who is closely affected and not dealing with it well. They have their own problems, but for that to rise up right now is really making me angry. It is making my mum's life harder as she's having to process what's happening to her daughter, and cope with this other thing. It has meant that this person is not there for me, and in their internal mind probably feeling that I don't want or need them. But I do, and they're removing themselves from the situation and making things bad for mum. And then I feel selfish, because I equally need to be there for them. But. But. Not now, please. Not on the week of my surgery. I know telling people with mental health issues to 'sort themselves out' doesn't work, doesn't help, but I seriously want to give this one a slap right now. I'll get my compassion back at some point, and it makes me feel selfish making it all about me, me, me, but hey, give me this week will you? Just this one week for things to be about me.
I might regret writing and posting this, but it is a seriously toned down version of what I really feel, so what the hell. I need a reminder of all that is happening around me, and this cryptic passage is part of it.
In other news, I have received many messages of support and best wishes from friends, family, work colleagues and the internet weirdos I chat to. Thank you all. For your thoughts, your questions, your care, your wimples (don't ask!). Thank you for letting me be me. Sometimes in the mood to talk, sometimes not.
Christmas is a week away. My plans for the week are going to have to be re-thought. I have present wrapping to do, which I can manage OK, but have to be careful of lifting and stretching. I had thought I might take myself on some days out, but I can't drive. I want to get the house clean and tidy for visitors, but can't do anything heavy. I was looking forward to some leisurely Sydney walks, but I can't hold him on a lead if he gets bouncy, and I'm very slow and wobbly on my feet still. I have my birthday and birthday dinner at Verzon House to look forward to, with some wonderful friends. I'm not sure how in the mood for a good glass of wine I'll actually be. And Greg's work Christmas dinner on Friday, where I can say thank you to his bosses for letting him accompany me to my appointments. They've been very understanding. It's only a week, it will all be fine. I have crochet to do.
Partly, it is processing what has happened. I'm giving Sydney short walks as Greg's leg is still hurting and we can't risk him damaging it further - especially with me unable to drive - and on yesterday's walk I had a little bit of a sob. It was my first time on my own since the operation, and I had started thinking about how lovely the nurses and doctors all were. Jean, Augusta and I had all said we would not have had better treatment if we'd gone private. Nevill Hall is a fabulous little hospital, with some of the best doctors. The nurses actually seem happy. We were very fortunate to be there.
I had thought about how they had saved my life. Again. That's a weird feeling, I can tell you. I fully believe that we all have to die sometime, of something. But of course, we all want to die at an older age, after a full and happy life. And to just drop off in our sleep or go quickly, painlessly. So I'm glad I'm still alive, because dying young seems a waste, it hurts too many people. I also feel amazingly grateful that medicine has got me this far, but that I wouldn't want to live forever. I hope I know when it is time to stop. It's definitely not now.
And I was feeling so thankful that my mum had come to look after me for a couple of days. My mum is amazing. She is calm, sensible, and caring. She's one of the only people who has thought to ask Greg how he is feeling. He really, really appreciated that mum. Thank you. She came with me on the short dog walk, made me cups of tea and sandwiches, carried anything that needed carrying, gave the living room a quick vacuum. She was great company. All this, and you have to remember, she is also dealing with the fact her daughter has breast cancer and just had yet another operation. I think I get my 'get on with it' attitude from her. I'm proud to be considered anything like her.
Part of my confusion is also about how some others are being around me. One person in particular who is closely affected and not dealing with it well. They have their own problems, but for that to rise up right now is really making me angry. It is making my mum's life harder as she's having to process what's happening to her daughter, and cope with this other thing. It has meant that this person is not there for me, and in their internal mind probably feeling that I don't want or need them. But I do, and they're removing themselves from the situation and making things bad for mum. And then I feel selfish, because I equally need to be there for them. But. But. Not now, please. Not on the week of my surgery. I know telling people with mental health issues to 'sort themselves out' doesn't work, doesn't help, but I seriously want to give this one a slap right now. I'll get my compassion back at some point, and it makes me feel selfish making it all about me, me, me, but hey, give me this week will you? Just this one week for things to be about me.
I might regret writing and posting this, but it is a seriously toned down version of what I really feel, so what the hell. I need a reminder of all that is happening around me, and this cryptic passage is part of it.
In other news, I have received many messages of support and best wishes from friends, family, work colleagues and the internet weirdos I chat to. Thank you all. For your thoughts, your questions, your care, your wimples (don't ask!). Thank you for letting me be me. Sometimes in the mood to talk, sometimes not.
Christmas is a week away. My plans for the week are going to have to be re-thought. I have present wrapping to do, which I can manage OK, but have to be careful of lifting and stretching. I had thought I might take myself on some days out, but I can't drive. I want to get the house clean and tidy for visitors, but can't do anything heavy. I was looking forward to some leisurely Sydney walks, but I can't hold him on a lead if he gets bouncy, and I'm very slow and wobbly on my feet still. I have my birthday and birthday dinner at Verzon House to look forward to, with some wonderful friends. I'm not sure how in the mood for a good glass of wine I'll actually be. And Greg's work Christmas dinner on Friday, where I can say thank you to his bosses for letting him accompany me to my appointments. They've been very understanding. It's only a week, it will all be fine. I have crochet to do.
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