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Surgery preparation

 As I write this, I have exactly a week until my fifth operation.  With COVID numbers apparently high (according to the media) along with friends and family around me catching it and dropping like flies over Christmas; I have decided to wrap myself up in bubble wrap (not literally) and keep myself protected from the outside world so that I do not jeopardise my opportunity to step into the hospital and have the surgery that will hopefully allow me to be pain free for a year and provide me the closure I need, from what has been a traumatising 30 months.  Christmas was as magical and warm as expected with two excited four year olds - however, incredibly tiring due to said four year olds waking up at 4.30am ready to find out if Father Christmas has been (always 'Father Christmas' never 'Santa' - I'm British after all) and to begin the festivities.  So there we were - managing to delay until 5am, but half asleep putting together every single toy one after the other, like...

When it all happens at once.

This week marks one year since my last major operation. I haven't written a post for a while and that is mostly because there hasn't been much to update, on my recovery, no good news that that I can end on a positive note, no 'I'm pain free' or 'I'm feeling much better' - which is frustrating as it is negative and I didn't want this blog to be doom and gloom - however, I did want it to be honest - so I'll write an update which is exactly that.  After my pain specialist left me pondering the four options I had, in order to proceed with my recovery, I went to the pharmacy to collect my monthly prescription of Citalopram (taken for OCD and PTSD in my case, but we all have our own story) - the GP at the pharmacy confirmed that my pain specialist just went ahead and changed my medication anyway (remember it was a matter of replacing my citalopram with a 'rubbish anti depressant' which was a good pain relief but a 'RUBBISH' antidepressa...

Be kind (to yourself)

 This week marks two months since my last operation. I'd like to say that I'm on the mend, but I had a set of blood tests this week and my infection rate is very high - so It looks like I'll be on another load of antibiotics by the weekend.  Not only that, but my scarring from the third operation has turned into keloid scarring - which is very painful. It seems I'll have to rest a while longer, before I can begin to get back on my feet.  I'd like to say that I have improved and learnt from each recovery period as time has gone on - as you already know, I didn't allow myself to recover after the first operation due to my upcoming wedding, by the second operation I had scared myself with the infection and my traumatic experience at Fenchurch street station; thinking I was going to die. I  felt that I had been given a second chance to get it right and I owed it to my body to take my recovery more seriously.  My surgeon had suggested therapy and although I was hesit...