Hi ho, hi ho, back to the BRI I go…

Last time I posted my health it was all about the magic gel. Sadly, after initial good results this then failed to continue in the right direction, and after a further appointment with my consultant last week today I got the call – I shall be admitted again next Tuesday for an examination under anaesthetic and packing of the wound. BRI = Bristol Royal Infirmary.

When we met the consultant was keen to try the negative pressure dressing he had mentioned before, although his secretary didn’t mention it today when she called – he did say it would need to get special funding, so a little bit  of wait and see, but I am happy to have a plan in place at least.

Another recent post, Sometimes I lie to myself… got a big response, and I wanted to expand on some of the themes in that a bit and talk about how I feel sometimes – and when I say I am ‘OK’.

Right now, I am recovering from surgery that happened nearly 5 months ago. Sort of – it is actually a former fistula tract that was already there, and was anticipated to heal itself but didn’t. I’ve now had about 6 weeks of treatment for it – having to be signed off work again. The pain killers I have to take make my head fuzzy, so I’m not that productive – the blog posts slowed right down, I haven’t written any poetry for ages and even though the pain is mostly controlled with them I couldn’t focus to do a day’s work.

I’ve not yet been able to return to exercising. Now exercise was not a massive part of my life, but it is something I enjoy and feel good afterwards.

Included in exercising are working on our allotment and chasing endlessly after our nearly two-year old – things I enjoy (the chasing more than the digging) but cannot quite manage – at least not without consequences.

I appreciate of course that I am better than many. I am not bed bound. In every other respect I am healthy and doing very well now the infection is removed.

So, how do I cope? How do I manage? I keep a long-term view. This disruption – which might have lasted 6 or 7 months when it is all sorted will be worth the freedom to run, jump, swim and enjoy time with my family and friends when it is all done. That is the end point – and I’ll get there, one day at a time.

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