from my sick-bed

Well, it's not quite my sick-bed. It's my regular bed, and I'm feeling very sorry for myself, and fancied a bit of a chat with you all.

I went into hospital this Thursday just gone, to have my gallbladder removed. I wasn't that worried about the procedure, until I started thinking about the anaesthetic. I've never had a general one before, and I was worried about all sorts of things, like waking up in the middle of the operation, or not waking up afterwards, or of being sick from it. Anyway, there was a whole host of things running through my mind as I sat in the waiting room, politely smiling as a woman told me about her 'waterworks' problems.

Turns out I was sat in the wrong waiting room (I was told to sit there, mind you) and had to be rushed into theatre last minute. This caused a bit of a flap, you see, as I wasn't mentally prepared, no-one had told me anything, or what was going on. A few shouted words at nurses later (they started it, trust me!) and I'm being whipped off to theatre on a bed by a lovely porter, who did his best to keep me calm. A few mumbled words through an oxygen mask later, and I'm being woken up in the recovery room in an intense amount of pain. I was watching some videos yesterday about where they remove the gallbladder from, and all of them are really ramming the tubes in and out of the individuals stomachs - no wonder I feel like I've been punched in the gut repeatedly! No-one tells you how much a laparoscopic procedure will hurt! A minor operation, pfft. 

Maybe it's minor compared to heart surgery, but considering until then, the most invasive thing I've had done at the hospital was an endoscopy (which was traumatic in itself!), it's quite major. I think to doctors and nurses who see this day in, day out, they become very blase about the whole thing, and they don't understand why people get so panicked. I'd never say I have anxiety, because I've never been diagnosed, but I've suffered some similar mental health problems in the past, and have suffered from panic attacks for a long time - so I know when I'm approaching that state, beyond the usual nervous worries. I think more doctors and nurses need to be aware that for some people, it goes beyond just being a bit nervous, which I get is totally normal.

Anyway, now I've been signed off for two weeks, and I was hoping to go back to work sooner than this, but as I can barely keep awake for most of the day and can't walk more than a few paces without being overwhelmed from the pain... this doesn't seem likely.

So have you got any recommendations of what I watch, read or do whilst I'm confined to my room? I have a stack of books I want to read, some knitting to finish, and Orange is the New Black to get on with, so hopefully these will keep me occupied for a little while?!

Or, if you fancy a chat or a gossip - get in contact with me on Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, or follow on Bloglovin', I need people to keep me occupied so I don't go stir-crazy!

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putting your faith in time as a healer...

Since I was a teenager, I've found it hard to switch off my brain and go to sleep, because for the longest time, I've dreaded being alone with my thoughts. When I need to to sleep, my mind decides to replay just about every horrible, shameful, painful, bad and depressing incident in its back catalogue, repeatedly; to the point where I used to be in tears and unable to sleep, staying awake for hours with the TV blaring, just so I didn't have to think about these things. 

I used to think that these things would never change, that I'd never be able to not feel like this, I just assumed that it was how my brain was wired. Therapists gave me endless tips and tricks to dealing with these negative thoughts, but they never seemed to work that well. I was lying in bed last night, trying to will myself to fall asleep, and with a sinking feeling in my stomach, my thoughts drifted to one of these incidents. For some reason, no amount of mindfulness, meditation and rhythmic breathing has ever been able to take my mind off this incident.. 

But there was nothing. There was no deep stomach ache of guilt, the tears never came and I didn't want to vomit or claw my hair out. There was just this hardened little lump in my throat, and then it went away. I was instantly reminded of this quote by Rumi - so much that I got up and went to my notebook and wrote it down several times.

Don't turn away.  Keep your gaze on the bandaged place, that is where the light enters you.

I'm not religious, I believe in people changing things for themselves, to make a difference. Last night when I felt like I was sinking into this horrible place, that would put me in bad mood for days, I realised that something had healed over the wound. There was nothing there except scar tissue, a small something that told me how I used to feel when I revisited that place. No tears, no shame, no guilt, no black rabbit hole... It felt like just a bump in the road, a small skip and then it was gone.

There is little I can attribute this to, except putting my stock in time as healer. That old pithy saying, time heals all wounds, that I've never really believed in, suddenly feels true. I've been working on learning to look after myself, my health, my mental health and suddenly it feels like all my hard work is paying off.

So I just want to let you know that if you're feeling like this: hopefully it will get better. It will all pass one day, and you'll barely notice. You'll be snuggled up in bed on a lazy Saturday morning with it snowing outside, listening to Dusty Springfield with a smile on your face because you know you're getting better.