Always look on the ….

This time round, I had a feeling that there would be less of a contrast between my discomfort before and after the operation, just because I was in a worse state last time.  I left the operation longer than I should, I knew it even at the time and so, even immediately afterwards, pain without drugs (when they ran out of efficacy) was no worse than the pain of the arthritis.  Which gives me pause to ponder now.  But this time, I had no reason to tough it out until the bitter end – except actually, if I’d waited the extra six weeks to the 25th January when it was originally scheduled, I think I’d have been in poor shape.

I think I’ve got over some of the physical effects quicker.  I could bend more than I should and have to remember not to.  But, last time, before the op, I used to wake several times a night in real discomfort and had to grab the edge of the mattress to haul myself over, as I couldn’t move otherwise.  I hadn’t had that more than a few times this year.  However, that means that there’s less contrast between ‘before’ and ‘after’, so I’m finding sleeping for more than a few hours quite difficult.  I’m up to seven or eight pillows and a couple of cushions, as well as an extra duvet under me for padding.  Sleeping on my back isn’t that easy or comfortable, when you’re not allowed to turn over at all.

Such a princess, darlings,  Hah.

Eloise cat caught a mouse this evening, for which she received much praise.  Unfortunately, she let it go without killing it and – well, now we know where the mouse hole is.  I daresay she’ll find it again.  Cats are nowhere near as intelligent as dogs.  Though she’s absolutely adorable and I don’t mind that she is a wilful little child in so many ways.

She sits on or by me in bed and is very sweet and loving and this makes me happy.  LT and I love her dearly.  But she’s basically just pleased that I’m behaving like a cat.  She has no idea why I’m in bed more than usual, as a dog would sense.  When we last went to visit darling Ziggi, only a few days before she died (not that we knew that), she was home from the hospice for the day.  Her spaniel, Indi, wouldn’t speak to me.  She loved me and then I went away and it always took some hours for her to deign to come to me.  But, though Ziggi had been away for a few weeks too, Indi knew that she was ill and couldn’t help it.  She sat on the sofa next to her and simply adored her.  On the other hand, Eva, Zig’s beautiful Birman cat, was stand-offish with Zig.  She didn’t recognise illness.

At least the dogs were allowed to visit at the hospice, afterwards. They were with Zig.

I start writing and don’t know what I’m going to say.  I thought I’d just tell you that I’m like the Princess and the Pea in bed, and then say I’ve finished wrapping Christmas presents.  But there’s blogging for you.

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