The Lost Week
Well, last week was—-how can I put it?—-interesting. I apologise for the tumbleweed blowing around this blog for a week or more, but last Sunday, my aforementioned medical problem went from painful and annoying to emergency status. In enormous pain, I did something that I’ve never done before; I called the out-of-hours GP service. The on-call GP I saw was very sympathetic, and could see that I was in enormous pain, but said that there wasn’t much he could do for me, and I had to try to get an appointment with a consultant as soon as possible via my GP. Anyway, after much ringing around on the part of my GP, and a lot of anxious waiting on my part, I was fitted in at a clinic. When they realised what was happening, I was admitted to hospital right away. I’ve never been in hospital before (I’ve been very lucky), but I just felt incredibly relieved that at last something was going to get done.
So, I was hooked up to a series of tubes (no, not the Internets, unfortunately) for a day, then fitted in for surgery the following day. I was discharged yesterday with a souvenir 15 cm incision, decorated with alarmingly gothic-looking surgical clips (Hellraiser goes to Office World) that I’m hoping to pass off as a duelling scar1. I’m incredibly sore (I never appreciated how much you use your abdominal region to do everything), weak and very tired, but relieved as anything that the worst is over, and that I still have all my internal organs in their rightful places.
I’ll probably write more about the experience later when I’ve got some energy back, but here are a few thoughts:
