Fear :: Eight

I’ve not eaten anything since last night, and I’ll be off shortly to sit in a massive magnet for 15 minutes whilst my gallbladder is scanned. There’s a significant bruise on my left arm from the bloods that were taken yesterday. My body is coping reasonably well, I did get seven hours sleep last night, but mentally I am at times a mess. It is getting better, however. Fear is a terrible thing, but I can be confident now and say I’m getting on top of it. I have a PT booked for Friday and Monday. I’ll walk tomorrow and across the weekend, because the fitter I can be for Tuesday morning, the more chance I have of bouncing back completely.

That’s the plan, in all of this. As much downtime as is needed, but no wallowing. I cannot feel sorry for myself or milk any of this for sympathy. If it hurts, I’ll say so, because I’m not an idiot, but really I need to be up and working again. The quicker that begins the better, because this is all about forward momentum. Going backwards should really not be an option but if that happens, I will be ready to deal with it. I could almost hear the disappointment in my mother’s voice when she called yesterday, that I am going to have surgery, as if her protestations to the contrary would beat the opinions of two doctors and countless people who are living, breathing proof of the benefits.

I am amazed and stunned at the continuing outpouring of love and support from people I hardly know, and that there are so many people behind me, cheering me on. If I didn’t know I was loved before Thursday, I certainly do now. That makes confidence a lot easier to cope with. When you’re not alone, anything is possible.