The One Where I Didn’t Die

Hello strangers!

I can’t believe it’s already been two and a half weeks since my op; most of that feels like a blur. I’m struggling a bit tonight with pain internally which freaks me out a bit, and part of my wound is a bit oozey (sorry), and I’m so bloody tired all the time and feeling blue. So I’m going to share a few positive things:

• I didn’t die, so that’s pretty cool.
• All my staples (a lot) are now out which is the biggest relief. They were all getting so tight and sore and it feels sooo much better now. Plus I was absolutely dreading it. It wasn’t too awful. We won’t talk about the fact that the lovely nurse could not get the very last one out.
• My wound also looks so much better and I think once it’s all properly healed it will be a lot better than I’d expected it to be, which is nice.
• I’m not feeling (too) guilty about the two Cornettos I’m allowing myself most days.
• I managed a bath by myself today and can actually reach (some) of my feet again. That makes it sounds like I have lots of feet. I only have two. 
• I only have to inject myself for 11 more days! Which is far too fucking many but I’m trying to make my glass be at least half full. I am absolutely hating injecting myself every evening. I’ve had to do it lots of times before but my god it’s horrid this time. Some nights I just sit and cry for a few minutes before I pull myself together and get on with it.
• I’ve managed to get the last two stupid fricking crappy HRT patches to actually stick to my leg rather than to itself/my knickers/wherever the fuck it feels like glueing itself to. Why are these things so crap? 

I could write a much, much longer list of negatives about it all, I’m sure, but I’m a glass half full kinda girl (don’t laugh) so it’s just attempts at positive thinking for now.

I’m sure I’ll be writing more about the whole thing soon so get excited for that, but for now I’m mostly taking a break still.

I hope you’re well. See you soon,

Lou xx