Musings & Realities

I have a tight pain in the left side of my chest, it hurts when I stretch.  This pain has nothing to do with my heart. Its muscular, and relates to my back.  I thought it was heart pain, but I was mistaken. It poses an interesting question though: following my various sessions with the burley Irish physio who beats me up (recently upgraded from a burley Welsh Physio who used to beat me up – I like ‘em celtic), why should I do anything about it?

You see, heart surgery not only causes general annoyance, but it takes your fitness level from X to that of a geriatric, 3-legged hamster in one 6 hour slice ‘n dice session.

Given that the target for day 1 or 2 post-op is to sit up and day 4 or 5 is to walk to the toilet, I am not sure I can be arsed to do any more exercise right now, particularly not physio exercises – what’s the point?

I am behind on my blog writing.  I am behind on everything currently, and yet I am racing at 150 mph to get everything done, but I’m running on fumes, burning the candle.

Three more days at work to get everything done.  Ten more days of full fitness to get things ready in the garden for next year, to make sure the house is as good as it can be before I become effectively useless – at least for a bit. Pressure. Stress. I’m losing weight.

There is an overriding itch to get everything done now, not to let people down.  Because…..what if I can’t? Whatever I do, it’s not enough.

But I’m tired and it’s impossible to win. It’s one of life’s real dilemmas – time.  Never enough of it, when you require it most.

We are taking the next week out to relax, chill out, go away for a few days. It’s much needed.

Moving on then – let’s get graphic! This is my chest – yes, that’s a nip.

I have the good fortune to see it everyday when I brush my teeth.  You get to see it just this once. It has previously been described as being “built like a Greek god” by a now famous Hollywood actor!

I find myself staring at, well…me, a lot more than usual recently. It’s not because I’m so damn irresistible, but because I see my chest more like this right now.

One day soon I will wake up and there will be a big scar, forever changed. Part of someone else in me. Thank you. Whoever you are, btw.

If I think hard enough, I can feel the blade cutting into me, I know its weird, but it’s true. Dealing with existential shit is weird.

Apart from the scar, what about after? No driving for four weeks, no jogging for 10 weeks, no  gardening for 6-8 weeks and – the one that hurts the most – no lifting heavy objects for at least 4-6 weeks.

At 5Kg currently, my gorgeous daughter counts as a heavy object.  So whilst being at home means getting to spend more time with her, I won’t be able to hold her. Sigh.

How does one deal with such life-changing concerns.  I assume everyone approaches it differently. I tried counselling last year.

I needed help, and talking about things is clearly beneficial, although counselling it turned out was not all that it was cracked up to be. Fortunately I am not bound by confidentiality of my own sessions, am I……..

Session 1:- A windowless room above shop on Margaret Street, with single bed, oil heater, two chairs and a lady sitting in the corner. Weird.

Counsellor – Hello. Come in, please sit down.

Hello

Counsellor – What you like to talk about?

(Explains predicament of heart surgery, as yet unborn child and stress levels)

Counsellor – How does that make you feel?

Shit………and angry.

Counsellor – How does that make you feel?

Shit…….and angry.

Counsellor – What will you do it about it.

Well I guess we will have the baby and I’ll get the surgery and feel shit. And angry.

Counsellor – How does that make you feel?

Errrr – shit….

Counsellor – You know what I think. I think you are angry because you have lost control of your life and that is hard to deal with.

Ya huh!

Counsellor – How does that make you feel?

FFS.  

Counsellor – That will be £60 please, see you next week.

Session 2:-

A repeat of above, although we only made it to 35 minutes including at least 15 minutes where I just deliberately said nothing, to see if she would then say anything. She didn’t say anything of use. As I was leaving early, she suggested that I was cutting the session short to take control of something. She was half-right, although I was also extremely bored.

Session 3:- 

Howard cancels and goes home to start an award-winning blog. My blog doesn’t answer back.

And that, dear friends, is how we got to today. 

How am I? I’m OK. I think

Peace and love

Howard

x

P.S. Looking forward to seeing anyone that can make it over to ours on Saturday night.  If you want to come say hi, even if we haven’t seen you in a while, let me know.

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