This won't hurt a bit.

I was talking to my Mum just the other week, about the act of putting forward a statement.. believing it true and hopefully the universe has it's ears pricked up enough to deliver.

An affirmation some would say.

Well.  The universe recently had it's super sonic hearing turned up and I am one part dishevelled and one part halle-freaking-lujah.


I was over waiting, please.. for the love of Christmas cards.. can I just have both my operations over and done with.  


Let's go back a bit.


6:30am my alarm alerts me to the fact:  Last chance eating.  Anything after 7:30am the camera-down-the-throat tribe would deem me null & void.  Eggs, toast and, a coffee.  It had to last me a rather long time.  I was booked into a local health centre lark to have what the folk call an endoscopy.

To distract myself from the fact that I couldn't have my morning cup of tea or that Emily was eating my favourite biscuits.. I played phone ping pong with Emily's childcare.  But, that's a whole blog post in itself.

I had a nice ol' chat to my mum, rang the health centre to confirm "So, I can't even drink water?" and fell flat on the floor by the next conversation I had.

My mobile rang.

"hey Loz, This is The List Keeper at The Hospital you have been on a waiting list for like three years on"


"Ah yes."


"Yeah, well you're waiting for a procedure?  It's exit stations of that blimmin bladder of gall right?


"Yuh huh"


" So, we've had this cancellation.." *



So.  Only a matter of hours away from my first procedure, I was already preparing for the second.  They were taking my gallbladder out, on Thursday.  Today was Tuesday. I parked that to one side and packed my bag for the camera-down-the-gob tribe.


2pm I am sitting in a room with a lovely nurse doing pre-admission, answering for the billionth time that I didn't have any prosthetic limbs and I knew what the hell was going to happen.

"Do you have a sore throat?"
"I've just gotten over the flu, sinusitis and an ear infection"
"Ouch"
"What's your symptoms?"
"Chronic reflux, nausea, heartburn"
"Ouch"
"Oh and I am getting my gallbladder out on Thursday"

Then we went onto to say, that yes I had indeed drawn the shortest straw possible in the health stakes.

Sitting in the waiting room, ravishing hair net on, similar smaller versions on my feet and those ultra cat-walk worthy.. tie-up-the-back hospital robe.  Sexy.  I did a slight high five when I could put on my own dressing gown.

I waited.  And waited.  Read magazines from about 10 years ago.  Two hours of waiting and my name was called.

I tell you what, nothing more intimidating that walking into a theatre room.  All that stainless.  All those beepy machines.  A sea of people.  I have never had so many people so attentive to me.  I watched one lady attach the camera to the machine.  I answered again, that yes this was indeed me and no.. I hadn't forgotten about a false eye since we last talked.

I lay on the bed.  The anesthetist, quickly believed me when I said that my veins were sneaky blighters.  One nurse put those two little tubes up my nose, smelt like plastic.  One nurse just stayed by my side, patting my shoulder reassuringly.  Another put a mouth guard in my mouth and rolled me on my side. The anesthetist chatted on about a few things. Our business.  Emily.  How my veins were quite tricky.  Slight scrape and a prick. Far out.  More like a hammer and a nail to my wrist.

I looked at the clock.  4:06pm.

I woke in recovery.

Another lovely nurse.  Was I feeling okay?  I have slight recollection of the doctor saying something about Reflux and he'd see me Thursday.  He was doing my gallbladder too.  They had also taken a few biopsies that I'd get the results for in a week or so.  Hooray.

Another even lovelier nurse bought me a cup of tea, packet of biscuits and a sandwich.  I was in happy piggy heaven.  They had called Chris and he was on his way.  It wasn't even 5pm yet.

I tell you what, a good nurse is worth their weight and more in gold.  I have nothing but complete praise and admiration for the lovely ladies that looked after me yesterday.

Chris and Emily arrived.  Emily quickly announcing that "Bought Mum flowers, orange one!" 


They took my drip out, made me aware that I wasn't allowed to drive.. sign my life away or cook dinner.  I liked that one.

Still groggy, I had an early night and here I am.. the morning after the day before.

I feel like shite.

I have no idea if it's my condition, the anaesthetic that has worn off.. or just the adrenalin come down.

I have to slowly rehydrate myself and get small amounts of food back into my tummy.. all in time to start fasting again tonight.

I have run the race this far, I can't dip out now.

I'm exhausted.  Exhausted.  A bit sad.  Overwhelmed. But life has to go on.  The cogs of the Business still turn.  Emily still needs lunch and general entertaining.  I want to sleep and cry.

I remember sitting in the waiting room yesterday and thinking, if I can get through Emily's labour.. this is a walk in the park.

I'm packing my bag, this time I have to stay in hospital overnight.  I don't even know how to explain that one to Emily. I am nervous.  More so of just the recovery.  I am already behind the eight ball, I haven't had more than three seconds to recovery from one bout, for another to pop up.

Two anaesthetics in the one week.

I am bloody scared.

I am so exhausted, snappy, emotional and wee bit done.  I am sad and just need time to grasp everything.  Something I just don't have.

On the other hand, I am sick of being sick.

This time next week, I can start again.  A new chapter.  My 30th is just around the corner and I plan to make this year count.  Hopefully this sickness will be a distant memory and can eat dinner without consequence.  No more cancelled gym sessions.  No more.  Just getting on with life.

I crave that.







*Not exact conversation.