Finding moments of joy

Cake, just gimme the cake

Look at that cake. It's perfection. Made by a local bakery Ahh Toots, it was a beautiful surprise for my recent birthday by a lovely friend. Fed 18 of us quite easily on the day and then was eating cake for days. I have no regrets.

I know I've been quiet, but there's a reason for that. Unfortunately, I've been poorly and new meds have seen me totally out of it for weeks. I've been like a zombie. It's hard to be present, my mind drifts off and it's taking a lot of concentrate on the moment. Eating is a challenge. Moving is a challenge.

It's not been fun, especially when people ask me questions. The answers don't come easily and I have to actively search around in my mind for a response. Mining for a reply. It's unsettling.

Where possible, I've been catching up with family and friends ahead of the op. There's not long to go at all now. I've had another preop, found out more about what had happened with the first neurosurgeon and what the new neurosurgeon is like. I'm still unsure, this whole build up has been such a mess and new information isn't helping the situation.

But operation is nearly upon us and more cleaning and tidying has to be done. Also, packing. I'm not sure how long I'll be in hospital for, each neurosurgeon has given me a different timeline. So be ready for a few days to a week, I guess. I've invested in a lot of lounge wear, ie, joggers and massive t-shirts. Also, a pair of luminous dinosaur pyjama bottoms in case I wander off in the hospital. Should be easy to find me then.

It's 2020, again

This also means we're back in quarantine. Ugh. Forgot how boring and awful it is. Been going on walks with people and have set up a temporary lounge in the front garden for visitors. I'm so ready for this to be over. This year has been awful and I'm pretty sure me and my husband have PTSD as a result of how this has been handled.

Get private healthcare, just do it. The NHS isn't functioning properly anymore. It's been gutted. The support groups I'm in often tell stories of their stay. Generally, they aren't positive. I know these groups are a place for venting, but a lot of the stories are the same. Lack of staff, lack of beds, sent home too early, not listened to.

It's knowing that this is also something I have to prep myself for on the other side. I'm deaf, have been for 20+ years, and it's tough to communicate anyways. Do you know how hard it is to actually have a conversation? Listening is really hard work. Pubs and offices are nightmares as sound bounces around hard surfaces. I can't imagine what it's going to be like in a ward. This extra stress just isn't needed.

There are still moments of joy here and there. Seeing friends are definitely high points. But there aren't as many as we need right now.

Please send puppies.

Claire x