I'm at home for the time being, going through rest and recuperation after an operation last week. Suffice to say that the operation, on what I shall call out of politeness a 'part of my lower abdomen', has been much more painful and tiring to recover from than I'd expected. In my mind, I was going to use this time to read and write but I've done little of each, rather I've been sleeping a lot, gingerly treating my wounds, and walking around like an old man. Local sales of painkillers, gauze, and medical gel have risen significantly.
At least I was only in the plastic surgery unit at Morriston Hospital in Swansea overnight, the guys in the bed next to me and opposite me had been in for 4 months and 5 months respectively for some major reconstructive plastic surgery. My op was one that could have been done by the regular surgeon, but with much delicacy needed it was decided the plastic surgeon was the best option. Just before the operation I was warned that the need for a skin graft from behind my ears was a serious option, which would have been very painful and even longer to recover from. I prayed and prayed that it wouldn't be needed, and regained consciousness to find it hadn't been- although it still might be, as I have an outpatients appointment early next week. There are plenty of jokes I could crack at this point, but it's all a bit too close for comfort, let alone laughter!