I’ve only mentioned it fifty squillion times but in case you’ve been living in a nuclear bunker or are one of the people who switch off when I start talking you may not know that I’m going in to hospital on Wednesday to have three operations rolled in to one. You know what they say, make hay while the sun shines or err fiddle about with her innards as much as we can whilst she’s gassed and sliced open.
Tomorrow after work I’m going to head back to Sussex to spend the night with my folks. I was going to go straight into hospital on Wednesday morning but this way I get to dump a load of stuff to keep me entertained whilst I recuperate with them before skipping onto the ward swinging a tiny bag and proclaiming ‘I pack light!’
I’m not sure how long I’ll be away from here for but I will be in hospital for a few days (and hopefully out of my box on morphine) before I’m reunited with my laptop but suffice it to say as soon as I am back up to some sort of speed I’ll start waffling on again.
This surgery is more serious than the last time I was operated on, purely because it’s a three for the price of one job, and yet this time I haven’t written any letters to my loved ones. Last time I went under the knife I felt sure that I wasn’t going to make it out the other side because it felt like things never went my way so why wouldn’t I be the one who died on the table and became just another statistic?
This time round I’m not writing letters to anyone because I hope that my attitude and demeanour has changed so much since I last got sliced open that my family and friends know exactly how much I love them, without me having to put it down on paper.
I’ll be back as soon as I can face firing up my laptop but for now, stay classy Scales fans!