Hiccup

I was supposed to write up a witty in-depth account of my post-op recovery, with little anecdotes about my fellow patients in ICU, and the time I got the nurse to put a post-it on my door to stop the endless stream of cleaners and care assistants and students who were playing havoc with my nap schedule. 

I was discharged a week ago and I thought surely by now I'd be back at my little desk, tapping away on the keyboard, self-therapising by writing it all down. 

But I haven't been up to it. 

I still need a good 2 hour nap every day. I can just about manage a walk up and down my road with the two-year-old, and she's thinking, "Keep up, lady".

And now I'm back in the bloody hospital again. Temperatures and pain and a cough and funny-coloured stuff coming out of my really uncomfortable drain. 

I came to A&E this morning and was truly convinced I would be home in a few hours. Everyone here seems to think otherwise. They are big fans of admitting people in these places. God forbid someone could just make a diagnosis and management plan within a couple of hours and send you on your merry way. 

So that's where we're at. A slight setback in the otherwise impeccably smooth path from riddled to cured.