My last week of full mobility for a while began with hours and I mean hours of walking around the Gympie Show following 10yr olds on a mission to spend all of their parent’s hard earned cash.. quickly! Struggling with arms full of jumpers, water bottles and show bags and also being required to manage the high finances required to buy tickets in side show alley.. I think it’s safe to say I’m ready to put these achey feet up!
Although check the smiles on my youngest daughter Stella and her cousin Darcy while on the ‘Crazy Coaster’..
Totally worth it!!!
As was my annual consumption of dagwood dogs, fresh cream waffles and poffertjes from establishments you would never eat from at any other time. Ever.
I am fairly sure that I’m not meant to be ‘bulking’ for this procedure but it kind of feels like I am. I keep having visions of myself lying in bed post surgery as Austin Powers’s character ‘Fat Bastard’.. without the hairy chest.. and hopefully wearing a shirt!
These crazy thoughts are in jest.. but I’ll be sure to raise them with the psychologist I am off to see on Thursday!
I know there’s a perception that if you see a psychologist you’ve got ‘issues’… and yes don’t we all?! Personally I’m all for an hour of talking about me and receiving unbiased feedback. I think we all need to do it on occasion!
Recognise that five days prior to surgery might be a little late to seek help in mentally preparing for my operation and beyond!!
However I’m sure I will get a few last minute tips and tricks to keep myself sane, reduce any anxieties of morphing into fat bastard (no offence intended to any large hairy Scottish lads reading my blog) but primarily I’m hoping it will provide techniques that help me to ensure the beautiful smile you see on my daughter’s face in the picture above isn’t replaced with too much worry and fear for her mum.
You see this operation is not only significant for me.. it’s equally massive for my two gorgeous girls (aged 13 and 10).
Watching your mum go through a procedure that comes with pain and discomfort that can’t be easily masked will be challenging and has at times made me reconsider the process entirely. When I was writing this today I asked the girls what my surgery meant to them.
Lilli (13yrs) through tears said, ‘Mum your surgery means that you will walk normally and have less discomfort as you get older and I really want that for you ‘. Big hugs followed.. god love her beautiful soul.
Stella (10yrs) pipes up mid Lilli-hug, ‘It means a lot to me too!!’
‘Oh I know it does honey’ I replied as I reached over and put my arm around her, ‘tell me what it means to you?’
‘It means a week off school!’ She cheered..
Fair call. God love her beautiful honest soul.