Please excuse the downer of an entry as was the prior one. I guess being stuck in winter and autumn for the past ten months has done something to my mind – as it would for anyone’, really. Now, the sun has been shining consistently for the past three weeks, and I’ve been soaking it in – refilling my vitamin D. Springtime is finally here, my mood and general wellbeing has been uplifted.
Or maybe it‘s the mandatory „holiday“ I‘m on at the moment. Without a worry in the world, my body and mind can put all their focus on recovering from surgery. Which really means I‘m either laying around in bed or outside in the sun. Even walking for an hour ends in a nap – which, I guess, is okay, considering its only been six days since somebody cut my tummy open. (I am slightly exaggerating.)
But in all honesty, I could have not asked for a better first – and hopefully last – experience in this regard. Big kudos as well to my travel insurance, who helped immensely throughout the whole process! If you ever need recommendations, I‘m here to answer questions. Still, this was my first surgery, in a foreign country, unplanned, without my family there as an emotional puffer. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I felt like a five-year-old again, just wanting my mum there. And yet.. it all turned out okay.
Walking through the hospital doors, I was quite nervous. Lots of signatures and consents were given. I had to choose my Mel’s for the day and the next morning – what would have been a scheduled day surgery turned into an overnight stay. That honestly, freaked me out the most: spending a night in hospital alone. But even that was fine, because all I did was sleep. My inner alarm clock was still set to five in the morning, and I was the first up, getting my ten thousand steps in along the ward corridors, eagerly waiting for my discharge letter and the chance to go home.
Time beforehand right after surgery is a bit of a blur. I remember waiting in my blue hospital gown in a really comfortable armchair with a heated blanket covering me – nearly falling asleep after fasting for more than eight hours. The prepped me: compression socks, a cannula in my left arm. Time and again I had to repeat my name, date of birth and what I was here for. I felt I was in good hands.
Finally my name got called and I was walked to a bed in front of the theatre, where I laid for another while -time by that point was more of a concept than a real thing. Once again, I probably dozed off with slow jazz playing in the background. I was weirdly calm – didn‘t have a single worry about the surgery. I only remember the surgeon coming to talk to me and marking the incision. „Are you ready for this, Marie?“, and with good humor I replied: „As ready as I‘ll ever be.“.
A nurse walked me into the theatre. I laid down on the surgical bed, the anaesthetist asked me about my favourite artist, and then a mask was put on my face – I was out cold. There was no need to count sheep or anything. Waking up felt like coming down from a high. I didn‘t know where I was and asked if the surgery had already happened. It seemed I was waiting in front of the theatre just a minute ago. Soon, they wheeled me to my own room and within the first ten minutes dinner arrived. Boy was I happy about that, I was so hungry. I called my family, letting everybody know I was okay, surgery went well. Willow visited for a bit, and apparently I wasn‘t really myself at the time – blame it one the anaesthetics. I honestly don‘t remember a lot of that period.
Since then, I’ve been catching up on books stacked on my night table, watching movies I got recommended, sleeping, napping, dozing off, bathing in sunlight, looking at the sky, and working on my tan. It feels like a small vacation – it feels amazing. I don‘t have to think about work for another week or two, and even then, we‘ll have to see how I can manage with activity restrictions. I‘m not allowed to lift anything heavier than five kilograms for the next four weeks or do any straining physical activity, but at least I can walk. I haven‘t lost all my autonomy. But it is weird, asking for help putting on socks or other very simple things. This whole experience definitely deepened my understanding of patients I’ve worked with as a physiotherapist.
Anyway, enough about illnesses and recovery. The weekend before I lost my activity level, I wanted to do something fun – something to spike my adrenaline, just a little bit. A friend had the glorious idea to go the an amusement park in Sydney. Luna Park sits right on the water front and offers a beautiful view of downtown Sydney and the Harbour Bridge. It was a lot of fun – got my stomach turned upside down and inside out (no, I didn‘t throw up, please I‘m not and amateure). It was exactly what I wanted.
Now, recovering from surgery, I have a lot of time on my hands to look for new job possibilities.I don‘t think I‘ll be at the café for much longer. The point being, with summer approaching, I want to be closer to the beach and maybe try working outside more. Perhaps, it‘s also time to start the hunt for a four wheel drive, again. This surgery feels like a breaking point – like a reset – a restart to the whole Australian adventure.
Let‘s see where the wind will take me next. It definitely never gets boring, wherever I am.
Stay tuned for me! So long.
marie louise travels 