It is ten days since my surgery. I had absolutely no idea it would take so long to recover. Each day sees an improvement but gosh it is slow. I am pretty fed up. I haven't used pain killers since leaving hospital and I suspect that might have been a mistake. Pain killers can cause constipation, but operations certainly do. I related primary cause to secondary cause and stopped taking painkillers.
Today I went shopping with R but I was a hindrance rather that a a help. I shuffled along like an old man. People are kind to frail old people. They are not so kind to people who look ok but struggling. I suppose it was good to get out. We had breakfast at Tran Bakery as our usual place in Prahran Central is closed for renovations. A workmate came into the bakery and asked if I was on holidays. I only told people at work who had to know, the reason for my extended absence. Kind of holidays was my reply. He was happy with this, thank god.
This afternoon R put the ironing board up for me and I ironed my clothes that needed a press.
This evening to celebrate our dyke friend's birthday we went to the Elsternwick Bowling Club for dinner. What a little gem that is. Great food for the price. Our group to go out for a big dinner now seems to be twelve, and we were well catered for on a round table. We usually leave such dinners earlyish, but all gravitated to the bar overlooking the bowling lawns and started watching the football match. It was so one sided, who cared, but we stayed on. I was really struggling. Everything was annoying me. Everything everyone said was annoying me. Personal habits were annoying me. I was getting paranoid about what anyone said to me. I was hurting and I wanted to be home.
I keep reminding myself that people go through worse, such as Fen, and I can't imagine what it must have been like for tonight's birthday girl who had a heart transplant at the age of about 42.
But I don't care. It is all about me.