And the good news is that I should be going home tomorrow :oD There's always a fair bit of waiting around on going home day, first of all for the doc to come round and confirm that the escape tunnel is complete, then for pharmacy to send up meds to take home (usually at least one large carrier bag full), and then for the ambulance to come to take me home. I used to get frustrated with all the waiting around, but I'm used to it these days and don't expect anything to happen quickly - there's a reason we're called patients! Anyway, after three weeks in hospital another few hours doesn't make a lot of difference, especially if you have one or two things to occupy yourself. My TV payment will run out around 2pm I think, but I have my book, my cross-stitch, the 'puter and sudoku so I'll be fine ... and of course there's always sleeping :o)
This has been a long and hard admission. In some ways the length of time hasn't seemed that bad, I think because I was so poorly for the first part of it that I didn't really notice, and it's only in the last several days that I've begun to feel like more like my usual self. There is no doubt, though, that it has certainly been hard ... for many reasons ... and sometimes it's felt as though my head might explode. It may well explode yet, but at least when it does it'll be when I'm at home and the mess will be private. Every so often little bits of the mess have leaked out, but without the space and true privacy (despite being in a room of my own) it's hard to let go of it. I don't want to have to deal with the head-mess - I don't want to feel it - but I know that it's there and it will come, and I'll crumple into a bit of a gibbering heap while I deal with the vast array of emotions. I know too that I will come through it, but it's not always easy to feel that when I'm in the middle of it so perhaps, if I write about it on here, one or two of you could remind me that I'll come through the other side and it'll become just another near-death experience.