Recovering

Thank you to those who have written with good wishes, it is very kind of you and much appreciated.

The trip to Sydney was uneventful, if you count a six hour drive much of which was in pouring rain uneventful.  However we arrived safely, and as instructed I presented myself to the hospital the following morning, was poked, prodded, tested and jabbed......all quite undignified, you know.....duly put to sleep and operated on.  The specialist told Kevin all went well, and I will be seeing him (the specialist, not Kevin......I see him much of the time) tomorrow to find out for myself.

The shoulder hasn't given much trouble since although it is making its presence felt today (thank goodness for industrial strength painkillers) but oh my, I woke up with such a sore throat which has persisted since, so much so that eating anything with lumps is so painful as to be impossible.  Liquids such as soup and yoghurt are about all I can manage.  Did you know that, while you are under anaesthetic, a breathing tube is passed down your throat but most people never know it once they wake up?  For some folks, however, it leaves a very sore throat which a nurse assured me would be better in 24 hours.  That was on Tuesday afternoon.......it is now Sunday afternoon......I am still waiting.......

The piece de resistance, however, is the tight white surgical compression stockings which are to be worn until I see the specialist tomorrow at midday.  They are apparently to prevent blood clots and are so unattractive that I cannot bring myself to go out in public wearing them, and except for a couple of medical appointments on Friday afternoon, have not done so.  Tomorrow's appointment will be kept wearing long pants to cover most of the stockings, and it won't bother me if it is steaming hot.  I have my standards, you know.  The black sling is bad enough:  picture, if you will, a sling with a wide waist strap, and a wide shoulder strap, and the cradle for the arm held away from the body with a wide pad which stands out from one's waist far enough that one cannot see one's feet - hence, walking is slightly difficult, so the morning walk is suspended until further notice.  One doesn't wish to take a tumble on the hill.  Poor Bianca The White Cat had a paw accidentally stepped on the other night because I just couldn't see her.

Physiotherapy started on Friday afternoon and the therapist was pleased with my shoulder, so here's hoping for a quick recovery.  I have even found out that washing long hair one-handed is possible too.

So, six weeks in the sling (with time off for good behaviour, and to stretch the rest of the arm and elbow daily) means, in that time, no sewing, knitting or crocheting, no ukulele playing, (sad), no housework (oh dear).  Fortunately I can read and do crosswords and watch TV and......well......that's about it, really.  All slightly boring.  I will post occasionally so you all know I haven't dropped off the earth, unexciting though those posts may be at times.

"Never, directly or indirectly, refer to the affairs of others, which it may give them pain in any degree to recall."

Indeed.  That includes subjects like operations on parts of one's person, because now it's done I would rather put the pain behind me.

Enjoy your days!