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I’m still housebound. Getting a little bored, which is a good sign, but am still sore and woozy. I have to be careful not to go overboard on eating now that I can eat anything, because I’m not getting any exercise and could well undo all the good work I’ve been doing at the gym in recent months. But oh it was nice to eat beef and red wine stew for dinner tonight!

The thing I’m finding quite disconcerting is that I’ve been getting really anxious whenever a medical show comes on TV. And I’m not talking about those real-life operation type shows, but things like All Saints. I don’t normally watch it anyway, but I was sewing in front of the TV tonight, and it came on with a scene set in triage/the emergency ward. The movement, the set and the dialogue (“are you allergic to anything?”) was just so much like last week that I started to feel…strange and had to turn it off. And that doesn’t just apply to straight-up drama – Kieran loaned me season one of Grey’s Anatomy and Scrubs is one of my favourite shows and right now I can’t watch either of them.

Despite the ward I was in, it’s not like I actually had open heart surgery or anything. I think my experience was actually quite positive – all the staff were really lovely, the patients around me were no trouble, the operation went smoothly, the recovery is going well. But I have to keep remembering I was cut up and part of me taken out and that takes time to heal, both physically and emotionally.

It’s kind of surreal, really.