This and the last post were written during a sleepless post-surgery night whilst heavily dosed on morphine. They are unedited apart from correcting the horrendous spelling mistakes caused by tiredness combined with a tiny qwerty keyboard…. Beware…..in an effort to be honest and truthful about the whole experience…this might contain too much detail!
I am lying here post surgery at around 4.30am with 91 year old ‘bag o’wind’ * in the next bed and 80 something ‘snoree mcsnorer’** opposite me. Both lovely, sweet ladies and both talk in their sleep. But fear not, I do not claim to be doing much better myself. If I was sleeping I am sure I would be farting, talking and snoring with the best of them. I have oxygen mask strapped to my face and a pile of itchy glue covering the area previously inhabited by Wilhamina. My right boob looks like it has been hit by a train with bruising to rival the colours and textures of the most beautiful Turner painting, I have a lovely drain exiting the wound, a bright blue nipple caused by the dye injected into Wilhamina and lets not forget my delightful ‘free from deoderant’ smell and fancy blue support stockings. Good grief I hope it gets better from here on in.
I am probably not the best ward-mate either in that I am lying here tap-tap-tapping away on my phone keyboard writing this and other things in order to keep myself sane and empty my mind which is full of racing thoughts. I am committing these to my notepad so that I have a couple of days of blogs posts and possibly even a short time of blessed sleep. Morphine will cause drowsiness? Not for this loopy mind it doesn’t.
I am also completely baffled by the fact that I was babbling about sewing blue tartan taffeta as I was waking from the anaesthetic………………..