Rather exciting day today, after a satisfactory X-ray yesterday which showed my right lung has paused in its slow dance up and down my chest cavity, we made the quick decision to pounce on this opportunity, and after my 2pm IVs we escaped…and I went home for the afternoon.
It’s funny because technically I didn’t do anything different, I lay around, only on a sofa at my parents, (and later my very own pink bed which I was so so so so happy about) and had things brought to me and ate food and lay about a bit more, but oh my goodness that feeling of being at home, it was just bliss. It is a tricky thing, talking myself into a day out, because as much as half of me is desperate to get home for a bit, the other half is frightened, what if my lung suddenly decides to fall down? There aren't nurses and doctors everywhere, what if I get too tired and puffy? The hospital is safe, suddenly home doesn't seem so. Credit to my mother and A who conveniently ignored all of my hissy fits this morning (the phone calls which when they were asking about timings etc I was pouting and saying through naughty clenched teeth “I don’t like anything” in the most agreeable manner) and instead continued with arrangements to have me brought home, the back of the car loaded up with pink pillows so travelling just like any princess ought to.
After resting at my parents for a while, A and I decided to go home. I must admit I half didn’t want to. The last time I left the house, I was on a stretcher heading into an ambulance over a month ago, and there is nothing like being right back in the place of an event to bring the memories flooding back. As we pulled up on the driveway and everything looked the same – same roses fading slowly now in the flowerbeds, same next doors cat curled up under next doors car – I felt quite calm, and was pleased to notice how improved my walking was compared to the wedding last week (although I wasn’t wearing 4 inch high heeled sandals this time which may have had something to do with it).
We went inside and I headed straight for the bedroom, as I didn’t go in there after my lung went down. I sat down on the bed, fine. A went to the car, fine. He popped to the kitchen, and I burst into tears. It hit me so fast I didn’t realise at first why, but it was everything, remembering how scared I was as we left in the ambulance, remembering the thought crossing my mind in ICU that I might not ever go home again, and then just relief, relief that this big step is finally here.
After the 30 seconds of tears (I am getting fairly well practiced at stopping myself quickly as it makes it so much harder to breathe it is just silly!) that moment was over, and I just lay on my pink bed taking in how nice it was to be back in my (oops I mean our) room. The sunlight was streaming in through the window and it was just gorgeous! There is so much to appreciate which is right under your nose and yet most of us go looking for stuff which is probably why the search seems never ending, you are just looking in the wrong places. Apparently I cannot articulate the feeling of a big dose of normality so think I will stop trying.
Having thought I would probably manage a few hours, I returned to the hospital tired (well asleep in the back of the car) but happy at 9pm. It has really given me a wake-up as well, and I will be back pushing myself a bit more with things tomorrow. I have been lying around a lot this week, since Harefield I suppose, still doing my daily walks, but in a slight malaise. I will forgive myself slightly as my inflammation markers (which should be below 10) are topping 200 at present, so I’m not 100% (as my mother pointed out with a look of wisdom the other day, why she is not a doctor is beyond me...) but still I could be making more of an effort to help myself and shall start tomorrow. More walking, more physio, onwards and upwards!
Check me out being smiley sitting on my bed with wet but clean hair yay!