Well manic compared to the weekends here where pretty much everything grinds to a halt.
I’m awoken at 6.30 am to be given paracetamol. I asked them to take my temperature before the paracetamol as I’m not in enough pain to justify it. My temperature is 37.6 so slightly elevated but that doesn’t count as even a low grade fever although it worries me a bit. I get the paracetamol and drift back to sleep. 8am and the teams of doctors arrive, each Consultant has his own team. My team come to see me, minus the Consultant. The Registrar is a huge guy, possibly Canadian. He has his blue scrubs on topped with a tan leather jacket that is too small. He’s pleasant enough but he doesn’t look like a doctor. There is a new face who I haven’t seen before – now he is lovely. He says he’s been away but he’s familiar with my case. He’s quite reassuring and tells me it’s very early days, and really it’s only now my body is starting to recover from the absolute nightmare of the respiratory failure, he felt fairly confident the TPN would be a temporary measure and was the best way to nourish my body at the moment. He said my bloods were all good and I was doing well considering so that gave me a boost.
One of the nurses asked me yesterday what was my underlying disease that was causing this – good question I said. There probably isn’t one as there is no evidence of disease, it’s all down to the complications of surgery. I still blame the way my endometriosis was treated, 20 years of needles and aspirations into roughly the same area must have caused such dense scsr tissue coupled with the fact he ( the gynae) never treated the disease so that was left to rot and fester too. I think back to my 30s and 40s when I used to be permanently exhausted. I worked full time, and Stephen was in the Police. I used to get home from work so exhausted, the site of dishes in the sink would make me cry as there was nothing left of me. But I had my Lyns and so I used to hide a lot. If only I had realised the damage the aspirations were doing to my insides but back in he day your Consultant was God and you never questioned him. He refused to operate as he said it was too dangerous – He used to tell me the menopause would be my panacea, and in a way yes things did improve but the mess all of this had left behind created nothing short of a monster.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing