2 Months on

Its 8 weeks since the knife fell.. (how dramatic!)
I remember as if it was yesterday the group comprising of surgeons, anaesthetist and theatre nurses standing round me on my trolley, going through the details of the procedure. Then shortly afterwards being given something that must have put me out. I don't recall the slide into oblivion or being challenged to count to ten. It was "Game Over" before it had started, a bit of an anti-climax.

But as i've written before, there are vague recollections that fit with the passing of time, or seem even more distant. Like memories of the long walk to the toilet at the end of the ward. I was so out of breathe by the time i got there with my feeding tube, stand and extra oygen bottle, that i had to sit for a while before getting down to business. I'm capable of a lot more now.

We're in Ostfriesland, staying with Claudia's parents. Their house borders on an enormous Maize field which was growing steadily during our last visit (a week before the operation) and now stands more than ripe for harvesting.
In a strange way its a powerful thing to see this same crop again, the other side of surgery. I never doubted that i'd make it through, but remembering the darker moments when i would stare for long moments out over this field, with my emotions crashing in on me - and now to see it again with all the relief of successful treatment and a new hope for the future, is a real blessing.

2 months on and my recovery continues to bear new fruit, allbeit tentatively. I'm starting to hear my body's prompting a little more clearly. If what i'm sensing is primitive hunger, when 15-20 mins before my next meal (without looking at a clock) my mind is quietly urged to eat something before nausea sets in, then i'd be seriously happy about that! The anti-sickness tablets are ridiculously bitter and i can't wait to see the back of them.