Eight weeks later

When I started this and titled each day the way I did, I don't think I thought through the complications of writing this blog for as long as I already have, never mind any longer. I mean if I'm still doing it in a years time sixty weeks later is going to look like a very odd title. It's like how old is your baby, you start in weeks, but you pretty soon progress to months, otherwise it gets a bit silly. I have the feeling this is something that I may need to look at in the future, but I guess for now it's still OK. As for it being eight weeks since my second operation, well now that is something. One of the reasons I started this was so that I could look back at the earlier weeks and see just how much progress I had made, and it is really helpful, after feeling sorry for myself yesterday I went back and read some of my early posts. It is very easy to get bogged down in day to day drudgery, and not be able to see your progress in terms of recovery, but when you look back at how little I could do at the beginning, well I'm doing really well now. Not having the energy to simply stand up to wash up is my favourite, I hardly sit down much at all these days (except for doing this). So the secret for me is to look at all the huge things that I can do now, rather than concentrating on the stupid little things that I can't. 

Last night Neil took the boys, and two of Xanders friends, to the cinema, as Xanders birthday treat (I know spoiled, but, I don't care), leaving me alone in the house with a film to watch. Again I have to use the computer, if you think watching TV is complicated you should try watching a film with the surround sound system. Anyway Neil got me Water for Elephants as he thought it would be my sort of film. So did you know they shoot a horse in the first half hour, and an elephant gets beaten up in the next, now I can't watch the trailer for the dolphin without a tail film as it makes me cry too much, can you imagine me last night. I'm sitting at the computer crying my eyes out, using dozens of tissues with the dog sitting watching me, probably thinking I'd lost the plot! Now I'm not saying that I cry more than I used to (I do), but I'm a lot more emotional than I used to be, so you get it in all directions, all my emotions are nearer to the surface, so crying is far too easy, so is yelling, but then again surprisingly so is laughing, none of it takes too much. Xander now sits watching me, if we're watching something emotional on TV (see I can use the TV if the boys are around, it's sad) he sits there waiting to see if I cry, "she's off" is all you get. Well I'm glad that I'm at least some form of entertainment to them, I'll come in handy on the long winter nights, which appear to have arrived already.

We actually have visitors coming this afternoon, it's not too exciting as it Neils sister and her family, OK that didn't come out right, it's not that they're not exciting (well to be honest, they're not really) but that their reason for visiting isn't. Good grief I'll get myself into a pickle if I'm not careful. They are coming to look at our little old caravan as they are interested in buying it. They like caravanning, but have to use Neils Mom and Dads van, and they can't tow it (due to it's size) so wherever they go Neils Dad has to take it and fetch it back. The point of this is that I really should tidy up a little, not that I care if they care if my house is a mess, but they have a two year old, and my house needs to be tidier if only for safety reasons. I don't believe in hiding your valuables, I think parents should be able to prevent their children from messing with things that they shouldn't, but maybe I should pick up the dogs bones, that he leaves around the place, and Neils empty beer bottles. Just to be on the safe side. Plus I could maybe hoover out the caravan, to make it look a bit more appealing, and yes Neil is quite aware that I can hoover now so thanks for that to whoever it was that told him. He still expects somebody other than me to hoover the stairs though so I can't completely complain.