It is one week since my surgery, one whole week, I can't believe it! It is as if time has been playing tricks on me, the days have all run into one, a blur of sleep, television and social media.
Yesterday was difficult. The hardest day yet. I felt like I was fighting back the tears all day. In the back of my mind I just kept clinging to the thought; in a couple of weeks this will be all over. I don't really know what hit me so hard. The fatigue, the constant ache, the dizziness or just missing being with my boys.
Hubby took our boys swimming, it was strange being left behind. I waited for them to come back and we ate lunch together but afterwards I retreated to bed, tired, hurting. They went to an indoor play centre. I continued my Game of Thrones Marathon and slept but I felt a great gaping hole inside.
I love our weekends, we always do something together but just being together is enough. I felt lonely despite the dog remaining my constant companion! I didn't want to punish my family, give them a rubbish weekend too, I don't want that guilt weighing me down. I wanted hubby to take them somewhere to have fun and use up some energy. I just wanted to be there too. I wanted to be fun, to have fun, not to be sick mummy!
I did not really know what to expect but I thought that one week post op I would have far less pain and far more energy. In the first few days just taking a shower wiped me out. Now I can manage to sit downstairs for a while and eat dinner with the boys but then I need to rest. People keep telling me it's early days but I feel a bit pathetic, weak. This isn't me!Spurred on by my new game of thrones obsession and the strong characters portrayed. I sought strength in the family words.
I will swear alligence to house Martell and will remain:
There is nothing I can do but listen to my body and rest... But my spirit will not be broken.
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