I wrote earlier this week about the fact I was going under the knife. That happened on Wednesday. The hospital gown was as flattering as you’d expect, but I was pleasantly surprised that I didn’t need to wear those beautiful DVT stockings so many patients are issued with. The surgery went well, I was back home by 6pm the same day, and I immediately collapsed into a post anaesthetic snooze fest.
The hospital advised 2-3 days rest, then to gradually introduce normal activities. I had spent weeks wondering how I would pass 2-3 days of rest, and if rest was something I’d get. I had great ambitions of reading half a dozen books on Kindle Unlimited, indulging in a spot of gambling on https://casino.netbet.co.uk/ and maybe even getting some well overdue sleep in. I thought that perhaps I’d manage to write some long overdue blog posts, and maybe, possibly, perhaps do some online shopping.
In reality, I have had 32 degree heat keeping my kids up all night, my husband’s Rheumatoid Arthritis has flared up, and that ever elusive “rest,” has been minimal. Don’t get me wrong, hubby is helping out as much as he can, but Sam depends on me. I am his go-to-girl. It’s me he needs to climb all over, pinch, grab, lead all round the house and sticks to like glue.
We’ve split nursery runs between us. Poor Hubby’s shoulder has meant he can’t lift the kids in and out of the pram, while my wounds make tipping the pram to mount kerbs difficult. We managed it between us though. Of course, we had a few offers of help, but it’s not that easy with Sam in the equation. He freaks out if I am not around, so it’s not like an extra pair of hands would help much.
I managed to change my dressings today, and I am feeling better as a result. Fingers crossed I’ll be functioning as normal by this time next week, and ready to get on with life as a mama of two, without the constant worry of becoming a mama of 3 driving me round the bend.