I will try and keep this a little entertaining and not too factual but post-op recovery just isn’t jazzy. It’s the shock of being in hospital and its frankly painful. So many people go through it every single day. Surgeons complete these surgeries every single day and it’s so regular for them but to me it was HUGE. It was such a shock to the system – literally. I will try and describe how I felt that day without traumatising or scaring anyone too much…
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.