Less than 36 hours to go until knee surgery of doom and I am getting more and more anxious.
I've tried incredibly hard for the last five months to carry on as normal and stay positive but now that the day is almost here I am terrified. Not least what I should take to hospital with me, but how long I will be in pain for, how long the four wounds are going to take to heal and worst of all, whether the operation will actually work. It is technically experimental after all since they don't actually know for sure why I'm so sore.
I received a letter from the NHS the other week apologising for not seeing me within their twelve week target. I don't know if that made me feel better or worse. I know the pressures they are under so am not resentful. My knee on the other hand seems to have taken on a personal vendetta and has gotten incredibly painful just recently. It's like hot needles appear out of thin air sometimes, but it's probably just in my head because I'm stressed. Stressed or not, I can't sit still for long, house chores seem to take forever and my poor dogs must hate me because I can't walk far either. It's a good job bubbles in the garden make them happy.
Still, I'm determined that surgery is the right thing to do and I just want it over and done with now so I can get on with healing.
Luckily, my husband and mum are going to be here to take care of me, and my friends and colleagues have been very supportive.
Tomorrow is the start of #heartunions week. I am Prospect representative at my work so am going into the office with cakes and freebies to share in some success stories and hopefully gain some new recruits. After all, without unions I probably wouldn't get sick pay for the time off work I'm going to be taking and they do so much other good stuff for all us too. If you're not a member of a trade union, please think about joining one so our voices continue to be heard... Especially while Mrs May is still bludgeoning on with Brexit. But that's another story. Ttfn.
So it's now my 'day three' (operation day being day zero) and I'm almost back to normal. Sort of. The day of the operation went perfectly. I was in the OR at 9 am and settled in quote 'the best room in the whole hospital' with sweet and sour chicken by about 5pm (I think). I have been really privileged to have a private corner room with two huge windows and my own bathroom. The mixture of anaesthetic and morphine and who knows what else meant that day zero was pretty easy. As soon as I was in the recovery room in my delirious state I was put on a physio machine that kept my knee moving and I had that all night and most of day one and over night. It kept me awake quite a lot, not because it was particularly painful but because my leg kept jumping off it (rebelling) and I had to keep readjusting. And it was noisy and quite annoying as is the call bell. It was much easier using the machine than trying to bend my knee manually though. Even now I can only be...
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