Back home again

Quirky girl red glasses illustration

I’m back.

What a relief! My little trip to hospital for surgery was just that – short, straightforward and successful. So far, so good – the investigation to find and remove (you get the idea) went to plan and by all accounts, and on the face of it, all looked good and non suspicious.


A little pain lingers; reasonably I guess, given that I’ve had an operation.

I was frightened though. It was a big thing, even though the anaesthetist cheerily told me I was his 12th patient that day. That made no difference to me! It wasn’t my 12th time, it was my first.

I had imagined Alex, who kindly took the day off to come with me, would be allowed to accompany me all the way until I went in to theatre. No such luck! He had to leave me right at the start. I then spent *hours* (4 of them) in a cubicle all by myself waiting for my operation and trying to read and not panic.

Reader, I panicked. Try as I might, I couldn’t fend it off. I’m quite used to thinking myself calmly out of anxious things, but this was a hard test.

Luckily, a few years back, I did weeks and months of CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy), which changed my brain, rather. It was amazing, and I don’t mind telling you, helped to rescue me from an enveloping gloom that had sneakily got a hold without anyone really realising (and I was ignoring it and trying to cope – not something I’d recommend).

In that hospital cubicle, I had to rummage around in the brain toolbox and come up the industrial CBT hardware – mental techniques and stuff I haven’t had to use for ages. So good to have it though. I will always be grateful I learnt CBT, and I never mind talking about it. Our brains are just as important as our bodies, and all connected. I feel no taboo about it.

There was a window right at the top of the wall in the cubicle, and so I also stood on the chair, in my hospital gown and socks (!), and peeped out and looked at the sky, and counted the clouds and watched the treetops, and waited for the panic to pass.

Panic always passes. It must. The human body can’t sustain it for long. (Though goodness knows what it did to my blood pressure).

Then I went to the bathroom, washed my face and held onto the side of the sink for a while. After that, it wasn’t long before it was my turn to be wheeled in for surgery and have my hand held by the dashingly handsome male nurse, who I’m sure was provided just to gaze into my eyes as they put me off to sleep.

Embarrassingly, I apparently asked after him as soon as I came around, as well as woozily telling the consultant she was ‘fantastically beautiful’.

I’m sure they’ll have me back another time to provide them with more chuckles, but I think I will politely decline.

Resting well. Drawing a little. Reading. A few gentle walks. Cake. I’ll be right as rain in no time.

Thanks for all the encouraging messages.

Love, Trudi


6 Comments on “Back home again

  1. Delighted to hear that you are OK. (And back in top blog writing form!)

  2. So glad you’re back home safe etc. God bless you. Love from a Roger …no not A Roger! THE Roger Scoones, your biggest fan!

    Sent from my iPad


    • Love to you, THE Roger Scoones. If you had a fan club (and I actually think you do) I would be in it. 💕❤️😊

  3. Well done Trudi. Relieved at your outcome – all worth it then.

    I have the same thing next Mon second hip replacement. So I no the drill. Already somewhat apprehensive though.

    However, my first replacement was one of the best things I did. Xx

    • Thank you! I said to the children that if I were to have another operation tomorrow, I’d now be an expert. Knowing the drill is half the battle, isn’t it?! But the other half is still pretty daunting, so my thoughts go with you for Monday. 😘😎

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