I estimate I have had, on average, approximately 1 surgery every 18 months of my adult life. Today was number 15 unless I’ve forgotten some.
I am in ICU and managing pain nicely and being treated like a queen. My 1 out of 4 hyperactive parathyroid gland was removed about 8.30 this morning and I was in recovery by 10am back in ICU at 11am. Todd popped in and visited for an hour about 12.30.
I am restricted to ice chips at the moment and genuinely looking forward to food, maybe tomorrow, I’m told.😳🥴
The biggest hope for this surgery outcome is to feel better than I’ve ever felt before, in my adult life. Correct me if I’m wrong Dan with this quip, but this should weed out some or most of the issues with ‘bones, stones, intestinal groans and psychiatric moans’.
Last night, wanting to relax pre op, our TV died, the boys beat it’s dead body to confirm death to vent all our frustrations ! However I was advised I cannot upload the evidence🙄. Foster to the rescue again by, lending us his big screen smart TV till we have time and cash to buy a new one.
In other news during our 10 week ‘R &R’ time away in Clare, saw Todd stay over night in the hospital on two occasions with suspected kydney stones, to be further advised by doctor on return home, after a chest xray, that he also had/has walking pneumonia. WTF😷
A client recently told me, if you got your health, you got money in the bank. I agreed more a truer word never been said. But on the flip side, my alternative is grimmer than being financially stretched, so I continue to put my big girl pants on, swallow some cement and suck it up princess.
In all honesty I’m feelin’ good as hell just bloody starving, and FOMOING the delicious sunside I can see outside.
Happy days xx