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Good morning Facebook chums
Day 8
You know some mornings things simply go a bit off piste. Today is already shaping up well . For the past 90 minutes I have been writing this episode only to inadvertently delete it.
So today keep a lookout for updates.
The topics I had covered were
1. Sleeping
2. Millennials
3. Weeing bubbles
4. Sick note
I'll try to recount my report as the day progresses.
Yours
Irritated
So let's talk about sleeping. Last night I managed a reasonable night's sleep. This I achieved by hugging a pillow. A bit of a bind when you want to turn over but as I am in self isolation at home (voluntarily using the spare room) I could manage it. The first night since last Sunday I haven't slept on my back.
My plan for this morning was to have a shower. Now this proved to be exhausting but at least I feel clean and refreshed. Following my shower it was time to replace my special post op dressing. Now these dressings are efficient. 25cm long 10cm wide with a band of adhesive all around 2.5cm wide. The adhesive is a thing of wonder. Imagine waxing with superglue. Very slowly I peeled it off to reveal my clean, dry, horrible looking wound. A small price to pay. And in all my bravery I decided to leave it uncovered for the day.......instant relief from itching. So here I am lying on the sofa, dressed in normal clothes, gazing up the garden, looking forward to my lunch thinking "This is something I could get used to".
Back to my hospital stay. One of the first things that happened to me (apart from the obvious slice and dice) was that I had a plumbing addition. Thankfully done under general anaesthetic. One thing for sure, no matter how gender fluid you want to be this is a time you really need to identify carefully. So this procedure requires a little (in diameter not necessary length) tube which is popped up your willy taking some air with it. This is a great little addition for those like me that are unable to get out of bed for 48 hours. But eventually, like all good things it came to an end, a nurse came along to whip it out. So now I'm back to a manual rather than an automatic venting system. Pressure builds.....call the nurse .......curtains drawn, I'm not completely mobile because I'm still on a drip, I wee into a cardboard bottle. Now this is the interesting bit. The air that entered my bladder with the extra plumbing has to come out. It comes out in the form of bubbles. A not completely unpleasant sensation. Time for celebration I'm weeing champagne!
In order to indulge in this period of self pity and recovery I need to secure a little paid time away from my employment. In order to facilitate this I need a sick note or more correctly a "Statement of Fitness for Work". To get one I need to ring my GP surgery. So I settled down for the long haul. I make the call. 1 minute 45 seconds into the call I'm informed I'm 20th in the queue. I abandon the call. I wait. I try again 10 minutes later. This time I'm only 17th in the queue, I wait. Eventually I request a sick note and with all this modern technology and paperless systems I need to arrange someone to collect the paper copy (on Thursday) and deliver it to my employer. I'd better start shuffling now.
Now, about that lunch........