I'm in a strange place at the moment, physically and mentally. I'm largely ok when I'm pottering around at home (so long as I don't have to bend or pick something up from the floor) and that leads me to think I'm ok generally and being a bit of a fraud by being off work. Then I go out and within 50 yards I'm reminded that I've had an operation. It's not just pain or, more often, soreness, it's the bone-weary waves of tiredness. I was out for the first time on Wednesday night seeing Suzanne Vega and I'm still not over that and it's now late on Friday afternoon.
I'm splitting things up in my mind. I need to get over having an operation on my back, with sharp knives carving bits of me out of my body and scraping disc off my bones and organs. I also need to get over the effects of an operation in itself, having my body subdued by anesthetic and invaded by knives. I was under for longer than planned when they saw the mess of my slipped disc and I suppose the longer you're under the longer it takes to get back to normal.
My scar was a little bit inflamed on Wednesday night when I got home and removed my trousers. The scar's about 3" or so in length in the small of back, right where the waistband of any garments lie. I've been wearing elasticated shorts for the last few weeks so they don't press on the wound too much. Trousers are evil things.
I'm also getting terribly bored. It's not even as if I can do much tidying up or re-organising at home since I can't really bend much (although I'm improving). I've got an appointment to see a physiotherapist at hospital on Monday so I'll be asking for exercises I can do to strengthen my back and stomach muscles and what I should do to become more bendy. I ought to move more but I want to move in the right way.
As the great Pete Shelley once sang (and still does) "... b'dum b'dum..."