Tag: recuperation

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Taking it easy

Taking it easy isn’t easy for someone like me. I get bored quickly, and convince myself that as long as I do things slowly or gently that they’re no effort. How wrong I’ve been.

Harvested onions

Junior Gardener has returned to Manchester now, so I’m on my own. Husband is busy with the house build and I don’t like to bother him with small things that distract him from his main priority, finishing the house!

I was told not to, but I pulled the flowering onions from the croft beds a few days ago. There were only a few dozen of them, and they came out of the soil easily. I didn’t feel that I had strained myself or exerted any real effort. I carried them through to the polycrub to dry and thought no more of it. I felt a bit tired afterwards, but that was it.

However, I was wrong. It did cause problems, and I’m now sitting with my legs up wishing that I wasn’t so stupid. I’m only two weeks into my recuperation, and the effort was too much too soon for my still traumatised body. Stupid, stupid.

I’ve learned my lesson, and won’t be doing any more gardening for a while yet.

I only hope that I haven’t caused complications with my recovery. What I should do is use the wonderful aromatherapy gift that a good friend sent to try and calm my thoughts and stop building “to-do lists” in my mind, and instead focus on relaxing and healing. She knows me better than I know myself.

I will also have to content myself with nothing more than gentle walks and wearing outrageous leggings for amusement. It’s about the level of what’s possible for me right now, and what passes for entertainment in these parts.

Flowery hedgehog leggings

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Home and healing

I’m home now in the caravan, and starting the process of healing.

There’s immeasurable comfort in being at home in your own environment when you’re ill. The warmth and familiar feel of your own bed. The support of your loved ones around you. The now familiar views across the croft to the sea and over to the mountains of Knoydart.

The croft

Husband is heroically administering my daily stomach injections. I tried, but simply couldn’t bring myself to self inject – all respect to those that can and have to do this every day. The injections are blood thinners which have to be administered for a week following the operation whilst I’m not as mobile as I would normally be.

Evil injections

I potter about happily as often as I can to keep everything moving between periods of rest, legs up on the bed. I’m not allowed any strenuous activity or lifting whilst my body repairs itself .

I learned the hard way that post operative fatigue is a real thing early on in this process. Stupidly, a few days after getting home I decided that I could sit on a chair and just gently hold a garden hose to water the polycrub plants. It weighed almost nothing, and I wasn’t standing up.

After a few minutes the strain of holding up even something that light started to tell. I rapidly retired back to bed. Since then I’ve been much more sensible and husband takes the strain.

Each day I feel a little more like myself. I’m healing well even though it’s still early days.

Flowers from friends

Friends, family and neighbours have been wonderful, sending messages of comfort and cards, flowers, food and treats. Good friends made dinner for us one evening and drove it over to us. I’m feeling quite overwhelmed at all the kindness.