I’ve been stabbed four times in my abdomen, or, more accurately, I had keyhole surgery last week. Ovaries and various odds and sods have been evicted. I understand why they needed four keyholes, but I’m really not sure what key they were thinking of when they nicknamed a laparoscopy that way.
A fucking big one in my case, not a Yale front door key, more a medieval castle key…with a moat…and a portcullis.
Having been sent home the same day as the surgery, I think I misunderstood the nature of my situation. It took a couple of days but I eventually got into the swing of correct recuperation behaviour. I learnt that this does not include walking to a cafe less than 48hours post operation whilst still off your head on anaesthetic and codeine, and that if you do such a thing you may pass out publicly, create craziness for GorJus and several strangers, push my poor husband’s stress levels through the roof and have to spend hours in A&E.
It does include binge watching all three seasons of The White Lotus. Find a reason to recuperate for a few days, White Lotus is worth it.
All affected areas are much less sore and I know I’m well on the mend because I’m bored now. It’s ok, I’ve organised a low key studio day tomorrow. Arrive late, leave early and fanny about in between.
Thank you to all nhs staff
fat tart 