Uh oh, the tiredness has hit back with a vengeance recently. Nearly 18 months post op and I keep thinking I'm fine and then.... If you've been reading for a while you know what I mean, ha ha. Sorry to be so predictable.
So yesterday I got myself down to the osteopath's in what I thought was plenty of time for my appointment. I was early, so I thought I'd get myself a GP appointment, as it's in the same building, and then, oh yes, please can I have a repeat prescription, Mrs Receptionist? After I was done I ambled along the corridor to find that the door of Consulting Room no. 1 was ajar.... and the osteopath was waiting for me. Turns out, I had put 12 noon in my calendar instead of 11.30am. Oops. And I've never met this particular osteopath so I had grovel. A lot. She was really nice about it but I could have cried. The past couple of weeks have been like that: forgetting things even though they happen every week, leaving taps running, you know, the kind of stuff I haven't done for months and months. All I can think is that my body is telling me I'm trying to run when I should still be walking. Boring and repetitive and oh so frustrating. When I got home, at around 1pm, I just had to have a lie down. Next thing I knew it was 6pm and the phone was ringing....
On a happier note, I said I'd post about what happened the other day. It was a day when Claire was either not working or starting late, I can't remember which, and I had decided to not rush so I had gone back to bed after breakfast. At 9.15am the doorbell rang, and I went down to get it, shouting out to Claire on the way "have your ordered something online again?". When I got to the door, all dishevelled, hair unkempt and wearing my slinky nighty with tatty PJ bottoms (not my best look), there was my friend Vanessa. She handed me a Cath Kidston bag. "I saw this and thought of you" she said "and I'm a firm believer of getting gifts for people when you find the right one, not just for birthdays or Christmas". And with that she was off to work, leaving me open-mouthed and struggling for something intelligent to say (I did say thank you, though, my brain's not that messed up).
She'd only gone and got me a set of Cath K nesting tins! What a lovely friend she is! I just don't know what to say, except that I'm glad I moved to this neighbourhood or I'd never have met her.