Three Steps forward, Two back.

Just when you think you have cracked the hysterectomy operation, the results are clear and you are able to walk Twice around the block..

I started to feel unwell on Sunday and was really grumpy with a capital G. But I was achey and not feeling well for no good reason, the reason became clear at 5.30 this morning. I woke up with soggy undergarments, my wound has reopened on the left and had leaked rather Alot, Nurse B dressed the wound with a huge dressing and within a couple of hours that was soggy too.

Operation Nuffield was put into place and hubby transported the pawly patient to the hospital where swaps were taken, antibiotics (of huge proportions) administered and new dressings applied.

Needless to say I don’t think I will be coming to Tuesday knit night. 😦

I feel quite tearful at the moment. Which is completely selfish as I have the best medical attention in the world and things could be oh so much worse.

Rainbows, Good Friends and Cake.

When I pulled the bedroom curtains apart at just gone 7.00 a.m. on Thursday I met a beautiful sight. And the best thing was I had a child to hand who quickly scurried to the study to rescue my camera so that I could photograph my rainbow. I love that this tree is just about to burst into leaf any day now. A true promise indeed.

I am so glad to have found my knitting pals. They have been a god send during my troubled times. Not in a in your face way, more of a gentle nudge ‘are you okay?’ way and ‘we are not going away even though you say your fine way’. Which has been very nice because even though I haven’t needed to blub into there shoulders until their jumpers (most probably hand knit) were soggy, I’ve known that if I’d needed to, I could. Which sometimes is all you need in life.

Today they both came to see me, I’m not sure who was more pleased, Me, Charlie for all the attention he received, or hubby because he got to have free reign of the purchasing in the cake shop. When hubby came home with Two carrier bags stuffed full of Cake! I knew that it was a bad idea to send a hubby with a sweet tooth out to a cake shop with only the vaguest of notions that he should try and buy something dainty for the girls, or in other words, this was not the time to purchase lardy cake. For some hours after the girls left every time I came upon my husband and he did seem to be lurking in dark corners, there were fresh remains of yet another cake, an anxious look in his eyes along with rapid chewing. I think for all the hard work he has done for me over the last few weeks he deserves a little splurge.

Charlie gave Diane such a warm welcome that I fear she will never be able to wear her black trousers again, well not in polite company anyway. She had this haze of blonde fur about her person as she departed..

Fun was had by all and we had a lovely girly gossip along with our deep and dirty sock yarn (how many skeins!) secrets.

Just when I had run out of chocolate.. Diane bought me this… Which I love as I’d struggled to try and retain more than 50 per cent ownership of the last two bars she had bought me. (in the end I resorted to hiding them, and they wonder why women get eating disorders, its because they live with Men!) So this bar is perfect. (although currently it is hidden, because you can’t trust men where chocolate is concerned)

And then Carie arrived carrying some gorgeous spring tulips with there vibrant jewel like colours, they really make the room come alive. Just perfect for this time of year.

And… More chocolate.. Yippeee….. (also hidden *wink*)

And now its time for me to go to bed because I’m absolutely shattered after my busy day.

Thanks girls I really enjoyed today.

Mothering Sunday.

After recovering from a bad night by having breakfast followed by another three hour nap I was ready to face the world. I was greeted with flowers, cards, chocolates and a rather pretty teddy bear from here on known as Theodora, along with the promise of another gift which is to come when I’m feeling better from son no.1

Hubby was chivvying me on in a rather gentle manner as I had said I wished to get up the plot to put some seeds in pots. March is such a busy time of year and those that have read my blog will realise just how much its playing on my mind at the moment.

So having secured son no.1 at plot no.2 (its all getting rather complicated with this numbering system isn’t it?) with the mower and some gardening tools hubby came back to collect me. And drove me all the way up the hill to plot no.1.

And the first thing I saw was this.

Its a Morello Cherry Tree grafted onto Giselle 5 root stock shaped into a fan. Its self fertile, Morello’s are mainly a cooking cherry although apparently when they are very ripe they can be eaten fresh from the fruit bowl. The beauty of them is that they can be grown on a north wall and as this is a wall that faces East we should have no problems.

As with all Cherry Tree’s unless your very agile and like to climb to great heights to pick your fruit, you must buy a dwarf root stock.

I’d been ooohing and aaahing over Cherry tree’s for most of the winter, I love it and it is the most perfect of presents.

And then I settled into my normal springtime position in the shed which consists of everything I need to hand whilst wearing five layers of clothes, filling pots and placing seeds in them. Happy as Larry I was. But soon I became creaky and miserable so was ordered and taken home.

I took a quick shot of my greenhouse, you can see that it is slowly filling up.

and just before I left hubby picked me some purple sprouting to go with the roast beef and home grown parsnips and leeks he is cooking for supper tonight.

I might need a sit down.

I’ve Never had Interflora flowers before.

This arrived just a few minutes ago.. It completely took my breath away.

and inside were some beautiful roses

and it gets even better as its a rose bush in a beautiful ceramic planter. Which is perfect, I’ll be able to plant the rose bush in the garden and use the beautiful planter again.

Thank you Roger, you are a big softy.

Knitting Mojo Returns.


Yesterday afternoon I picked up my knitting thinking I would just do a few rows before the feeling of exhaustion enveloped me. But no, I knit and I knit and I knit, until I needed to turn a heel, and then, I slept and this morning I picked up my knitting and knit some more.

I’m loving the stripey socks this yarn is creating, Fandango by Lornas Laces. You may have noticed it in an earlier post, given to me by the lovely Diane.

My New Carer.

May I introduce Lancelot.

He has three fine qualities.

Firstly, because my attention span is just too short at the moment to knit for long, so I am missing out on the comforting feeling of something soft in my hands, Lancelot keeps his coat in such good condition (he is a very proud Lion) that he is wonderfully soft to stroke.

Secondly, being a Knight of the Round Table and I really should call him Sir Lancelot I know anything I tell him will be kept secret and he will share my woes and troubles without letting the cat out of the bag.

Thirdly, ‘close your ears Lancelot’ Lancelot has enjoyed perhaps one or two feasts at the Kings invitation and is just a little rotund. Which makes him wonderful to cuddle and soothes my poorly tummy.

The Lift

Do you remember I said I would tell you a little story about a lift, are you sitting comfortably, you are, then I shall begin. (ignore narration, this is all over the place)

Once upon a time there was a fair maiden called Mandy who was called to the kingdom of the Nuffield to have a bit of a scary operation. On the day of the surgery, Mandy had to be up at 5.30 a.m. to be booked in at 7.00 a.m. for surgery at 8.00 a.m. I only tell you this small detail because it will also explain just how wide eyed and how she was really not able to cope with things as well as she would have been if it was a little later in the day.

All was going well, during the course of the booking in procedure the scary bits were getting scarier but Mandy was coping just fine. Then the time came to wheel her down to surgery. Being of noble birth she left her expensive items with her willing and faithful servant I mean husband which in this day and age meant her brand new specs. She was fully adorned in a pair of paper pants and one of those off the shoulder doesn’t quite meet at the back surgical gowns and a pair of rather attractive thick white tights, which Mandy hoped she would be able to show to her knitting friends so that they could admire the colour, cut and style of such an attractive pair, she hopped into bed, and was gaily wheeled off by two nurses.

One of the nurses Mandy had met on a previous visit, so we were gaily chatting away, her name was Manjit, the other nurse I am afraid to say I didn’t quite get her name, what with having no specs so I was unable to see her name tag and with what happened next it completely slipped my mind.

Manjit, Mandy and Nurse 2 entered the lift and all seemed to go well, but then there was a small problem. One of the lift doors wouldn’t open completely and the nurses were unable to wheel me out to theatre. A little discussion was held and it was decided that Manjit and I would go up and down again to see if the floors would realign. So up we went, no problem, and then down and on the way down, the lift crashed and Mandy was flown into the air by an inch, the whole of my body left the trolley. Manjit opened the door and we faced a concrete wall. This was not a good sign. I could feel my breathing change.

Manjit started calling and we could hear voices, Manjit was calling to see if there was someone there, me I was telling her to start pressing buttons to see if the lift would react in some way. Manjit then pressed some buttons and the lift went up but didn’t open its door and so we pressed the lift to come down. This time, it crashed with an even louder bang, I mean REALLY LOUD and my body left the trolley by at least two inches. The doors opened to see a concrete wall. I was starting to concentrate on my breathing. Breathe slow, relax, let it gently escape, etc.

Manjit started to call again, Me, I started to insist that she pressed buttons, any buttons, just buttons, which eventually when I started to lose control of my breathing she did. The lift went up and low, the door opened at a floor, and I screamed get me out, get me out, get me out. Manjit pushed me out.

So having to crawl through a lift hatch with barely a stitch of clothing on, averted.

But no we met new troubles.

The nuffield is currently undergoing a refit to the tune of several million dollars and the workmen had left this particular floor in a terrible state. The was another lift next to this lift but to get to it, the workmen had left about thirty chairs in the hall way. Poor Manjit had to move them all as I was completely useless, whilst I was laying there debris from the ceiling was falling on to me and my pristine just about to go into surgery bed linen. And I presume that the jolts in the lift may well have dislodged bits of dirt/dust.

Anyway we got into the second lift and that one worked and I was wheeled to surgery at this point, as you can imagine I relaxed just enough to burst into tears and was sobbing uncontrollably as I met my surgeon. He was lovely and gripped my hand and launched into stories that only men of a certain experience in life know can make a woman laugh. And soon we were laughing at past experiences and the anaesthetist had to break us up to start surgery. I will always be very grateful to him for getting me past that experience in such a short time.

The road to recovery starts here.

I was released from hospital yesterday, when I say released, I mean to say I told my consultant (and any hospital staff that came into my room!) I was coming home. I have two main theories about when its time to go home from hospital, firstly when the hospital bed starts to feel uncomfortable its time to come home and secondly when the good drugs stop its time too. Actually they gave me a goodly supply of the good drugs but as I hate taking them and they make me feel giddy/dizzy/lightheaded and nauseous it has been good to be in control and not take them for the last 24 hours. I’m just taking the paracetamol/ibuprofen combo now.

The most excellent news is both of my ovaries have been saved.

I’ve eaten Four, yes Four slices of toast and marmite this morning, having stopped the drugs my appetite has found its way home, this is the largest meal I’ve eaten in days. And now I’m going back to bed to lie down. I expect the next few days will be a pattern of tea drinking, pain killers, sleep and meals along with little trots around the house to moan about things.. Well you need to keep the risk of a DVT to a minimum…

I’ve got stories to tell and when I feel just a little bit more energetic I shall regail you with the story of The Lift, look out for it, its going to be a thrilling installment.

Thank you for all your good wishes.


I am a very lucky girl, I really am. I have good friends who have been keeping in touch and wishing me well for the next few days.

Firstly Ailsa sent me some gorgeous Noro that she no longer had plans for. Isn’t it lovely and I will be able to put it to very good use to make a very large Lizard Ridge blanket.

Thank you Ailsa.

I’ve had lovely emails, kind and thoughtful phone calls that made me giggle as they contained threats of bringing in Gin & Tonics on Sunday, and my parents took me to lunch yesterday.

Son no.1 has taken the day off work to help me sort out the house a little, he’s quite amusing, he doesn’t clean much but he’s nice to have around.

And then, the postman knocked the door and delivered this….

Look, beautiful Lornas Laces in a gorgeous colourway And my very favouritist chocolate in all the world,( the Almond Green & Blacks). Hubbys favourite chocolate is fruit and nut so I expect he will try to arm wrestle me for the raisin and hazelnut. Trust me, he won’t win. Along with a rather amusing dry to the bone card, which suits my sense of humour perfectly. Thank you Diane, for my wonderful present, you are very naughty.

And just in case this is all sounds a little like gobbledygook to you, I have to have a hysterectomy tomorrow. I have bilateral complex ovarian cysts that need removing and then we will see what can be saved although the uterus and cervix are definitely coming out. Its all been rather fast and emotional as you can imagine. And the worst thing is…. I won’t be able to Dig for TWELVE weeks. I think that is going to be very hard for me, which is why Diane tells me in her card to Behave! I’ve already counted the weeks out, it will be the end of May. Then its going to take me several weeks to get my digging fitness back. Don’t worry I’m just wittering….

Anyway as they say, there will be a break in transmission.

Right I’m off to wind some beautiful Lornas Laces into cakes ready for hospital/post hospital knitting.

Have fun everyone.