Now I am 'recuperating at home' the next few days are a bit of a blur. People bring cards and flowers, my sister sends Cyberjammies, my partner provides tea, toast and a lot of sympathy. I do the exercises, I read, I find myself not wanting to answer the door, my hiatus hernia plays up and one night I sleep twelve and a half hours. At one point I are very red in the face. I feel that I have no idea what I should be doing despite the fact that everyone tells me that I should be resting. Why I don't quite believe them is perhaps a story for another time. Sometimes a miasma of tiredness comes over me and I just have to sit down.
The most pain of the whole treatment so far comes when Sister C rips off the waterproof dressing. She compliments me on not screaming. It did really hurt! But the wound is healing well and everyone is pleased. Sister C urges me to take the painkillers and I promise that I will. And I will but I am genuinely not in much pain so why would I take codeine and oramorph if I don't need to? I know what the consequences are and, frankly, the desire NOT to be constipated supercedes the soreness. I am sleeping, eating and exercising and I do take paracetamol for it's anti inflammatory properties.
The incision – wound – scar is like nothing I have ever seen – we are so used to keyhole surgery that to see something about 10 cm long is a shock. But it is fading really quickly, the bruising is going and it is both less numb and less sore – no wonder I am tired; my body is working hard.
But it's all really hard to predict. On day 8, post op, I'm wiped out by a conversation with a friend. On day 9 I smooth some lavender oil into the skin around the incision and it seems to have a miraculous effect and I do not spend the day constantly moving my bra strap and feel much better. Perhaps tomorrow will be different again...
