Everyday I’m shuffling.

The car ride home is just me babbling about the day, and poor ol Ellen has already had me babbling by text all afternoon so must be bored of me already!

We pull up back home and reverse down the drive with my mind drifting to a plethora of thoughts:

1. I wonder what the neighbours think? Seeing us coming and going all the time? Covid Rule breakers!?

2. I hope and pray I’ll just heal up so quickly, be done with it and forget about it

3. First challenge of the night is to get from the car and into the house

4. What will the neighbours think if they see me hobbling from the car to the door with Ellen’s help?

5. Will the dog be excited to see me? We haven’t been separated for a whole day since September maybe!

Ellen helps me out the car and I shuffle over into the house, doing my best to remain independent, and Yep Arya is super excited to see me, that’s already helped! Nothing like a bit of pooch therapy. I’m walking hunched over and shuffling like a 90 year old as I’m too afraid to straighten out due to the incision being on my lower abs to pelvis. I’m still full of painkillers from the hospital and although there’s not any significant pain at the moment, I am constantly uncomfortable. I make it to the sofa Hoorah, that’s another checkpoint done!

It’s a Friday night, Ellen’s asking me if I want anything and a water is about all I can think of. Then there’s a knock at the door which sets Arya off which made me jump and wow did that hurt, yep certainly had an operation today and if I was half asleep before I’m certainly awake now through that pain. Ellen comes in and says it’s someone from football and begins opening the curtains and opens the front room window; and their appears Anton, mate and the football manager of the club I coach/play at on a Saturday. Bless him and the club for bringing round a card and a gift (it was football manager 2021!!!) we had a little chat, and it was nice to know people were thinking about me, even if that is a selfish thought.

I settled back down on the sofa with my blanket, staring at football manager knowing full well we were going to become best friends. I may have dreamt this but I’m pretty sure I had yoghurt and fruit for my tea as I couldn’t pick what I fancied and knew I needed to eat something so I could have my first lot of antibiotics which I need to take three times a day for the next three days. Apart from my limited mobility, I felt okay and I knew with Ellen by my side and with mum coming to stay for a few days, I’d be fine.

The next challenge was coming up; bed time and that meant tackling the stairs. Here I go, shuffling away, one step at a time and sure enough it was the slowest I’d walked up the stairs since I was a toddler...I was wearing a jock strap reminiscent of a nappy so it was quite fitting. Anddddd step; I made it, uncomfortable but certainly not unbearable and I try to make bedtime as normal as possible, brush teeth, go to the loo and then family guy in bed with Ellen and the dog.

So I know I can’t sleep on my sides for a while so have to get used to sleeping on my back and I felt comfortable in the hospital propped up so I went with that method again. Same with most people, getting in and out of bed is such a menial and taken for granted task, and that first night just getting in bed made me realise how ill appreciate the little things when I’m better. I had to pluck up courage with Ellen’s help to lower myself in bed (painful) and slowly swing my legs round (painful) and pull myself up towards the pillows so I was propped up...knackered! I take my paracetamol and tramadol, with the hope I’ll be out for the count and wake up refreshed in the morning...all about wishful thinking aye!

Arya goes down for bed and so Ellen shuts the door and we are settled for the night, I’m propped up partly worrying about my next challenge which I will face tomorrow..going to the loo for a number two..will I be able to go? Will it hurt? What if my stitches burst from pushing?! Silly I know.

I slowly drift off and have the weirdest lucid dreams that I’ve ever had, it was out of body and out of this world, something I’ve never experienced before and I’m putting that down to the tramadol and all the experiences/stresses I’ve had. I wake up; feeling confused about those dreams but also struggling to grab my phone to check the time in the hope it’s 4/5am...thinking if I fell asleep around 11.30/12 then 4 and a half, 5 hours will be fine and I can get another hour or so..nope, it’s 1 am. I’ve been out for just over an hour and thus begins my journey into insomnia.