My operation was seven weeks ago today and it’s weird, it simultaneously seems like ages and no time at all.
I’m no longer on opioid medication, so I’m quite proud of that, but I had some quite uncomfortable side effects when I accidently came off them too soon. I’m still taking painkillers though I nolonger have any dressings on my wounds and they’re healing, but still sore at times. I’m able to do so much more than I could just a week ago, but nowhere near as much as I’d like to.
I’m currently sitting in bed in my spare room as there is a good view of the garden, and I’m tired because I cleaned the bathroom after my morning shower (just a quick wipe down, don’t tell my husband!) I’m resting, admiring the snow and being kept company by my cat
I was beginning to do a lot better I think, but then Nick and I went away for the weekend, we didn’t go far and we stayed with lovely friends, one of whom is a nurse and who is wonderful and supportive. I had a comfortable bed and small appropriate meals, but now I’m really tired. I am in no way complaining or regretting the visit. It was a really great weekend, I needed a break and my poor, incredibly supportive husband definitely did, but there will be no painting or drawing this week and I might just manage to get my taxes done by Saturday.
But it is a shock, when you come to realise how fragile and slow recovery is. I can no longer assume good health which is sobering. So I found myself, measuring my small successes and planning for the future and yet, at the same time, not taking anything for granted, because all of this, my entire journey of the last few months, came out of nowhere.
I always thought that I was an empathetic person, but now I hope I understand more deeply how frustrating ill health can be. How much I need to prepare for even a short journey in a way that I never did before. I also came to realise how much the little things come to mean, the messages on Facebook, the loan of a favourite book or the card or scented candle or the gorgeous socks knitted by a very kind friend. I have thanked people individually, but I’ll say again how much these things mean to me. Thank you.
My world has shrunk for the moment and yet I also feel so very, very blessed. Nothing went wrong during my operation, there were no complications and I am apparently recovering comparatively quickly. I have a truly wonderful supportive and caring husband. We spend a lot of time, just holding hands, being together, enjoying our time together.
I’m also so very lucky to have such a wonderful family and really great friends and neighbours.
I’ve not sketched or drawn anything yet, though I do have some ideas rattling round in my somewhat addled brain, so I know I’ll get there, hopefully fairly soon.
There are always good things
I can’ rush anywhere at the moment so I have time to read books, listen to podcasts or watch videos on YouTube (there are some great arty ones) and music to listen to. I’ve been blessed with visits and kindnesses from my wonderful friends.
I’m very lucky that I had such a good year as an artist last year, I was quite prolific, and sold quite a few pieces, and I have some works ready to go out once I’m ready again. But in the meantime I sold a painting, which I had shared and exhibited last summer. It’s of the Quiraing on Skye and a lovely local lady had fallen in love with it. She got married at Christmas and her family bought it as a wedding present, which was wonderful. It was one of my favourite paintings from last year and the new owner is someone who has a special connection to the place I’d painted and I’m so very happy that it’s gone to a lovely new home. (pictured below, thanks JM for letting me share the photo)
Lying here, resting after my exertions(!) I’ve had lots of time to think. One of my friends asked me, over the weekend how I thought this experience might have changed me. I told her that I won’t put things off any more, I’ll do things when I can. But there are more things that have changed about my persepective. I am on the road to recovery and whilst it’s an uphill journey with loads of pot holes, is is a mostly forward progress, hopefully without to many obsticles in the way further along the route. So more than anything I’m grateful. Greatful for my husband, family, friends and neighbours, for the roof over my head and my comfy bed. I am far more blessed than many people I know.
Maybe my next blog will be about my art again? I do hope so
In the meantime, much love to you all.
Cindie xx