Featured
I actually wrote this blog last week but I’m only getting around to posting it now so you will note that I am commenting on the snow and new restrictions! It has taken me a long time to get to this part of the blog and recently the news footage of a Covid…
Self-doubt really cripples my progress in writing the remainder of this saga. How long should it be? Am I skipping over important parts? Or am I including too much info on uninteresting, normal events. I am reading a book by Margaret Atwood at the moment and it took being 200 pages in for me to be interested in it simply because absolutely everything is described. But at the same time I love it because she could write a novel about a leaf and make it sound interesting. So here goes nothing…
Previously on this average story telling blog….I was just told the news that I would be having my right ovary removed. But before we dive into my anatomy, let’s talk about my ward neighbours first (all names have been changed or omitted just incase this gets popular – unlikely but just incase haha).
This London story is so much longer than I originally intended. The more I write the more I seem to remember. It’s like the memories were stuffed in a brain wardrobe out of sight and now everything is spilling into my consciousness. I’m pretty sure that’s called ‘avoidance’ or numbing the emotions when things are simply too difficult for you to process so you just don’t.
A lot of things that I write here might not be remarkable in any way to other people, but via these blogs I hope to let go of the trauma I felt from all of this. Yes worse things happen in life but to me, this turned my life upside down and gave it a good shake. It made me view life differently and re-evaluate what I wanted out of it. This is my final piece to recovery and upon which I will close this chapter.
That first night on the ward was rough. During the day there were lots of staff on and it wasn’t too bad in terms of getting pain relief. The night was a whole different thing.
I awoke with the same searing pain that I had on that first night. Now..instead of pressing the nurse button, I would say I sat for a good hour and quietly wished it away. For one thing I was EXHAUSTED and I really needed sleep. You know like in the middle of the night when you need to pee – but this was worse. The pain continued to intensify and eventually I pressed the button. As I heard the bell echo around the nurse’s station I became aware at how silent the ward was. During the day, the nurses buzzed around the station, answering calls and attending to the growing mass of patients under their care. This time though, the bell wasn’t answered – the tinny sound hung in the air and then eventually stopped. I blinked. Ok – don’t panic – I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for this. They are probably with another patient. Maybe they are having a meeting. Wait no why would they be having a meeting in the middle of the night. I get frustrated as I try to remember who was on the ward that night but at my last OBs check I was half asleep – but how were you asleep getting your blood pressure done?? I’ve got Narcolepsy people…I can sleep through anything.
I have this thing where if something isn’t perfect I won’t do it. Perfectionists are often seen as highly motivated individuals, meticulous in their work, working to high standards and generally, it’s viewed as a good trait to have.
Mines is driving me crazy. It’s making me avoid everything at the minute, so much so that it’s actually delaying things.
Whilst yes its great to have the aspiration for everything to perfect, sometimes just getting the job 80% done is…I just paused this sentence to review the first sentence and it’s phrasing….i’m moving on with writing this but I’m still thinking ‘maybe that doesn’t sound quite right’ and now I’m thinking maybe I should just scrap this blog all together.
Not today sister.
I’m still trying to find consistency in the chaos that is Covid-19. I’ve had phases of super productivity and then panic phases of ‘oh-shit it’s still here’ and then back to chilling and then something else happens so I turn on the news again. One thing is for sure – watching the news is definitely the factor in determining how I feel about life. The less of it I watch the better (with the exception of Cosmo and the odd business related snippet on Linked In).
So where were we in this old tale of tiredness? Ah yes…the sight of blood in a London hotel room. No there wasn’t a murder, nor a knife fight, just a pasty blonde shortie bent over a toilet getting sweatier by the minute and a piercing pain in her side.
I reached for the hotel phone and attempted to call 999. No dice. It was making this weird beeping sound when I tried to dial out and wouldn’t work. A few attempts later I decided to press the hotel reception number. It wouldn’t work either.
How to begin this blog… this is probably the most horrific and equallu hilarious one of the lot. Warning – you probably shouldn’t read this if you are eating. I thought about editing out some of this but honestly, that’s what happened and everyone has bodies and functions, that’s all I’m saying haha. I have split it into parts as there are many twists and turns in this tale.
It’s been over a month now since I wrote a post like this. I have been battling to stay awake long enough to concentrate and write a blog for a long time now but I am glad to be back in the land of my rambles.
I sometimes wonder to myself why I bother to torture myself by talking about all of this. There are so many painful memories that also conjure up those feelings again. Feeling lost, feeling a failure, feeling embarrassed. I don’t know why or where this will lead by sharing this but I do know that by shaking out all the skeletons in my closet, somewhere along the line I will start moving on from this. I will always remember how I felt but I now feel like I am taking a corner. I am looking forward more than I am looking back and that has to be a good thing. I am making peace with the past – one ramble at a time.
Week one million (or so it feels like) of lockdown approaches. I feel like everyone is starting to get super fed up. We have all done the Joe Wicks, made the iced coffees, danced to Tik Tok dances, cleared out our drawers and done more online shopping than our finances are ok with. What’s next?I have found that I am returning to my old ways more and more – but this aint no bad thing! One example is that I bought a football. I don’t know what came over me I haven’t played with a football in years! As a child, I loved nothing more than going outside and kicking a football around. I was so happy when it arrived and once I got it blown up I was straight outside with my new purchase.