Woah. that was quite a cliffhanger to end on... apologies for the unnecessary drama. Needless to say MC and I have not killed each other in a drunken rage since then and married life meanders on at a very pleasant pace most of the time. We're both making concentrated efforts to drink less, which has definitely helped the mixture.
Now, I always promised myself I wouldn't write a blog about being ill (hangovers excluded). But having just had an operation for the first time I can't resist recording some of it so please humour me.
On Wednesday, seven months after my mother uttered the immortal line "what the hell is that on your neck?" just as a play was about to start at the theatre, I finally had a lump on my thyroid removed. Apparently it was the size of a plum (although they wouldn't let me see it, spoilsports). For the operation afficionados out there, the operation is called a hemithyroidectomy. Because yes, they took half my thyroid along with it.
My neck is now surprisingly dainty even if I do look a bit like Frankenstein. I thought I would enjoy the whole experience of being drugged up to the eyeballs for the operation but actually (and disappointingly) the thrill of a legal high turned out to be over-rated. I shivered, sweated and heart-pounded my way out of the anaesthetic like a bona fide crack addict on a comedown - just say no, kids.
And I had to resort to using a bedpan. Only once - but my god, never again i hope. The nurse was so lovely (and by some fantastic quirk of fate I ended up in a private room rather than a ward) but it just felt bitterly humiliating. I dragged myself and my drip to the bathroom next time round, I just couldn't face it. You really do leave your dignity at the door in hospital, however pleasant they make it.
The next step is to find out what said lump was. There's a small chance that it's something sinister, in which case I have to go through the whole palaver again to remove the rest of my thyroid. Perhaps I'll enjoy the drugs more second time around although I hope not to have to find that out.
In the meantime I have a rather sore neck. They have quite literally glued it together and it's not very happy. My vocal chords are still intact so i can still boss MC around, much to his delight. He has been amazing. He was up at 5.30am to come into hospital with me and didn't so much as flinch at the gorgeous hospital chic I was issued (those DVT stockings. sexy they ain't).
I am now back home and unable to stay awake for more than a couple of hours at a time. This apparently is quite normal. I feel like a teenager again. I thought the days when I could sleep for 13 hours at a stretch were behind me. I've got a Sex and the City box set and I intend to use it in earnest.... perhaps after a little mid morning nap.
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