Here I am!

I am alive!!

Yeah yeah, I know, enough with the drama already.

So I had my surgery and I came round in the recovery room and tried to scratch my nose but the oxygen mask was in the way. Um, oxygen mask? Yup. The surgery turned out to be a little more intense than anyone had anticipated, so they had to put me under a bit deeper, which meant that I needed a little more help to wake up again. Still, up I woke.

And snuck a look under the covers and saw a great big enormous padded bandage from mid-thigh to shin on my left leg. Okay so far. Except....ow! That hurts! The nice nurse lady asked if I was in any pain. Yes, was the emphatic reply. So she had a half-whispered conversation with the anaesthetist. Who had explained to me before surgery that he would give me extra pain relief and a local into the knee joint before bringing me round. Brows were furrowed. The nurse mentioned codeine. More frowns. A decision was made.

Ladies and gentleman, I am here to tell you that morphine rocks*. It tastes a little bit like a strong gin and tonic, and brings on the most fabulous la-la-la floaty feeling. Delicious.

Upshot being (like you care) that I had a microfracture procedure on my left leg. Basically, the bone lining between femur and patella had worn away and bone was rubbing on bone, explaining the sicky graunching noise the knee made when I walked down steps**. So the rest of the rough lining was removed and lots of little tiny holes have been drilled into the knee end of my thigh bone in an effort to stimulate scar tissue to cover the exposed bone. I am signed off work for two weeks, and am partial weight-bearing on crutches for four to six weeks. I have been sternly informed that this may not help my symptoms and further surgery may be needed.

Now, the Munchausen's part of me is naturally pleased. Look at me! Proper broken! But then I remember that I have to think through every physical manoeuvre before I attempt it, and that I struggle to put my own underwear on, and that crutches are not nearly so much fun as I thought they were when I was nine and Oona Landridge broke her leg and let everyone have a go on her crutches at break time. Also, that I am getting married in fifteen weeks and have bought the most amazing pair of Fuck-Me shoes to wear and they have four and a half inch heels and dammit I want to wear them!!

So. anyway. That's where we're up to. I will naturally bore you more at every possible opportunity. Meanwhile, the cat continues to claw at my bandage and glare at me as I have disrupted her daily routine of dragging her ringpiece along the kitchen worktops while we are out of the house.

Flowers, gifts and large bottles of Bushmills in the the comments box please.

* Disclaimer: Drugs are bad, mmkay?

** You're welcome.