Monday comes around very quickly, and we drop the children off to nursery for 8am. I let the nursery manager know what has happened (they knew I was going to have an op but not why/what), and tell them what we have told the children about the poorly boob etc. Just as well, as the first words out of my darling daughters mouth were "Mummy has had an operation on her chest".....
Bugger. Hopefully no one was listening as I really don't want everyone to know.
A quick trip to the local supermarche and the GP's later, to book appointments for taking dressings off, for a general chat with my GP (nothing in the same week of course, let alone the same day), and various vaccinations for the children (also on different days.....sigh), and I'm back at home, ensconced on the sofa, feeling like I've had 50 go's on the merry-go-round. How the hell I can have overdone it with a quick trip out in the car (I'm not driving, fortunately), I do not know.
This is bloody annoying, but at least I know what I'm doing for the rest of the morning - drinking lots and hoping the feeling goes away. It is probably low blood pressure, or just the effects of the GA. On the plus side, my guilt has been slightly assuaged for now.
I eventually manage a walk around the farm later on and by heck it is hot. I'm also followed for about a mile and a half by a pair of buzzards, which gives me the creeps.
The rest of the day is fairly unusual - dozing, reading, putting children to bed, and for the first time since my op, a proper sit down with my husband. Much better.
I have not confessed my temporary insanity, but he clearly knows I'm a bit fragile. I avoid getting teary as quite frankly, I don't think either of us need that right now.
Tuesday and Wednesday blur into one (with a repeat of the buzzard incident on Wednesday!!), other than the fact I chat to my boss on Tuesday and he informs me if I turn up at work, even on Auction day I'll be evicted. I feel slightly relieved, but still full of guilt as I know that someone else is having to pull my weight as well as their own.
I go singing with a friend (choir practice) on Tuesday night, which is lovely. I nearly didn't go - I looked in the mirror when I got dressed and didn't see myself. I felt scared of going out, as if people might magically know what I've had done. In a way this spurs me on - I cannot allow myself to get trapped at home in a little bubble. I've got to get out.
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