One of the other upsides to being ill is being spoilt. For the first few days I was not really with it (mixture of a lot of painkillers and a general aneasthetic meant that poor sister had a lot of the same conversations, mainly focussing on Christmas. She was extremely good humoured and didn't seem to mind answering the same question umpteen times).
But after the first few days, when my brain started to function a bit more normally I fully managed to enjoy the spoiling.
I missed seeing Harry Potter due to surgery. And so was taken to the poshy cinema near Queen's Park with the uber comfy premier seats to watch it one afternoon.
My dearest Deeks popped over to see me and brought me some lovely jammies (M&S - must be sensible when you're ill) which were exactly what was needed (big tum meant expandable waistbands were a must).
My aunty brought me cake and yummy edible treats.
Pearse bought me good books and flowers and a lovely card.
Lovely step-mum Jennie took me to Bicester shopping village, and while shopping was slow, we did have lots of yummy coffee/cake/soup stops.
And the Boyfriend planned a low key but fun packed weekend of activities all designed with me at the centre. We went to Battersea dogs and cats home to look at potential kittens. And pottered round a little farmer's market. And got me a treat in Topshop. And watched X Factor. And went out for a lovely dinner. And had a yummy Sunday brunch with papers. Almost worth him being away for the illness for the pure pleasure and cosiness of the past weekend. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.
Showing posts with label illness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label illness. Show all posts
Monday, 29 November 2010
Sunday, 28 November 2010
A small pause
I have been ill. And not the sniffly, feeling chilly, want to snuggle up in duvet and a bit sorry for myself ill, but going into hospital ill. And on top of it all the Boyfriend was in Mozambique until two days ago. Poor him - he nearly flew home and had a thoroughly miserable and stressful business trip. Poor me - he wasn't there.
I've never really been ill before, and the whole experience has been a bit alien.
Poor Pearse (extremely good red headed friend) had popped round for a glass of wine and found me curled on the floor calling a cab to take me to A&E. Without hestitation he packed me an overnight bag, jumped in the cab with me and sat with me in St Thomas' A&E for over 3 hours.
I discovered that the best way to be rushed through A&E is to faint in the middle of the floor and that dry shampoo is the best invention EVER for a hospital stay.
After suspected appendicitis and a laparoscopy (camera in tummy) I was diagnosed with PID (Pelvic Inflammatory Disease - extremely broad umbrella term that seems to cover A LOT) and after 3 days was sent home.
I also learnt how much I use my tummy. Having any sort of surgery in the abdominal area is horrible. Coughing, laughing, sneezing, breathing, sitting, moving, EVERYTHING seems to use those muscles. And causes pain.
3 days on and I managed to dress myself (it did take the best part of an hour but I DID IT!). 5 days on and I managed a shower without my sister hovering nearby, and 6 days on I managed to wash my hair unaided. The dependency issues made me appreciate having a sister practically my own age, as any remnants of dignity disappeared the first time she had to help me put on clean knickers.
It was a fast forward to what old age must feel like - feeling tired and fragile, being a little slow and being unable to have proper independence.
I lost my appetite. They pump your stomach full of air so that the camera can see your insides - and it takes a while for the air to come back out ( "oh, you'll be windy" my dear Wiganer informed me) and it also gives the appearance of being in my thrid trimester of pregnancy. On top of it all, your stomach feels full all the time, and squeezing meals in is a struggle. I have however, lost an impressive amount of weight.
I'm still rattling with various pills, and will be until the end of the week. And they all have big scary warnings about mixing with alcohol. And so by the end of this week I will have been sober for the best part of 3 weeks.
So all in all, illness has got its positives - I've had an enforced detox in the run up to the festive period, and an enforced temporary gastric band, and so feel fully able to overindulge as of the end of this week. One must appreciate the small things in life!
I've never really been ill before, and the whole experience has been a bit alien.
Poor Pearse (extremely good red headed friend) had popped round for a glass of wine and found me curled on the floor calling a cab to take me to A&E. Without hestitation he packed me an overnight bag, jumped in the cab with me and sat with me in St Thomas' A&E for over 3 hours.
I discovered that the best way to be rushed through A&E is to faint in the middle of the floor and that dry shampoo is the best invention EVER for a hospital stay.
After suspected appendicitis and a laparoscopy (camera in tummy) I was diagnosed with PID (Pelvic Inflammatory Disease - extremely broad umbrella term that seems to cover A LOT) and after 3 days was sent home.
I also learnt how much I use my tummy. Having any sort of surgery in the abdominal area is horrible. Coughing, laughing, sneezing, breathing, sitting, moving, EVERYTHING seems to use those muscles. And causes pain.
3 days on and I managed to dress myself (it did take the best part of an hour but I DID IT!). 5 days on and I managed a shower without my sister hovering nearby, and 6 days on I managed to wash my hair unaided. The dependency issues made me appreciate having a sister practically my own age, as any remnants of dignity disappeared the first time she had to help me put on clean knickers.
It was a fast forward to what old age must feel like - feeling tired and fragile, being a little slow and being unable to have proper independence.
I lost my appetite. They pump your stomach full of air so that the camera can see your insides - and it takes a while for the air to come back out ( "oh, you'll be windy" my dear Wiganer informed me) and it also gives the appearance of being in my thrid trimester of pregnancy. On top of it all, your stomach feels full all the time, and squeezing meals in is a struggle. I have however, lost an impressive amount of weight.
I'm still rattling with various pills, and will be until the end of the week. And they all have big scary warnings about mixing with alcohol. And so by the end of this week I will have been sober for the best part of 3 weeks.
So all in all, illness has got its positives - I've had an enforced detox in the run up to the festive period, and an enforced temporary gastric band, and so feel fully able to overindulge as of the end of this week. One must appreciate the small things in life!
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