Goodbye, October 2013, and good riddance. I’ve seldom been so glad to see November.
I had been expecting to struggle a little with October this year thanks to the anniversary of Mum’s death, but I hadn’t anticipated having stupid, time-consuming, flashback-inducing medical dramas of my own. I’m fine – the time may well come when the genetic legacy catches up with me, but this wasn’t it. I was admitted with suspected appendicitis which turned out to be a ruptured ovarian cyst (glamorous, I know), which was followed by a very painful intra-abdominal infection. Nothing life-threatening, but it meant inpatient treatment and lots of tests.
Nobody likes hospital tests, I suppose. (Well, there’s probably someone – people are strange.) They’re unsettling at the best of times, and when you’ve got severe unspecified abdominal pain and are high risk for pancreatic cancer, it all gets a bit frightening. At one point I was in the same ultrasound room where they found the tumours on my dad’s liver… not fun. My internal organs have a warped sense of humour for putting me through that right around the anniversaries.
Fortunately, October is now over and as far as anyone can tell, I’m fine. I still feel that I’m a million miles behind with everything and the state of my inbox is slightly terrifying, but it’s getting back under control, little by little. I have so much to say – there are projects to share and plug, arts politics to get wound up over, introspective posts piling up in my brain – and I just don’t have the energy for it yet. Recovery and getting back up to speed are irritatingly slow processes. I’m so nearly there, and there’s something about starting a new month that helps…