When I was acutely ill in the hospital, time passed quite quickly and there was a lot going on and a lot to process. The days were broken up with periodic visits by the nurses to administer medication or to assess vital signs, as well as awaiting tests, results, and visits from the doctors or any other healthcare professional that may have been requested to see me. Also, for me, as I had been feeling so unwell for quite some time and had deteriorated rapidly just prior to my admission, there was such a sense of relief once the intense physical pain was taken away, that I was almost euphoric.
Once I was discharged, my family arrived from various locations and I was surrounded by love and support. My parents live in Galway and as does my adult son so they arrived together, followed by my sister who traveled down from Dublin. My adult daughter was already at home as she was on midterm break from her university course in Paris. It was crowded and more than a little chaotic, but it was a mini family reunion so my mood was upbeat.
Of course, then they left - my sister to return to Dublin and my parents to fly to New York and then Los Angeles on their annual trip to visit my fathers' side of the family in NY, and my brother and his family in LA. There was the initial relief of having some private space after the hospital admission and those daily small victories of needed less pain medication, or being able to walk for longer or at a faster pace. And then the physical plateau began where it occurred to me that this might be as good as it gets. As difficult as this alone is to process, negative thoughts began to creep in about what further diagnoses might be waiting down the road. Time began to pass in increasingly small increments with nothing to distract me. The day I was expecting the results of the CT, I walked seven miles just to make time pass a little more quickly.
Part of the problem may be that I have told very few people the full story of what is going on. My friends here in this adopted town of mine know about the PE, but they have busy lives with a lot going on at the moment. Additionally, as I met my local friends through running it's not as if I could just mention it in passing on a Sunday morning 8 miler. One friend here knows what is going on, another who has recently moved to Galway I confided in also, as well as a long-time friend and work colleague who I dissected the CT images with before the official radiologist report came back. Actually now it sounds like I've told loads of people! I'm aware this is on the internet, so very public, but google tells me nobody reads it so while documenting this here is therapeutic for me, it's not like a support network with feedback and input from others in similar situations.
I suppose, as I'm very family focussed, it feels like I haven't told anyone, as none of my family know except my partner and my sister. As my parents and daughter are overseas at the moment, I don't want them to panic for something that could be nothing. In the case of my daughter - this Erasmus year has been great for her so far and really brought her out of her shell so I'm reluctant to cast a shadow over that for her. And obviously, I can't tell anyone else until my parents and children know so I had to lie about my CT results to my parents and all of my extended family over and over again.
So for some good news after all that heavy stuff. I don't have to take these lads twice a day now.
Also, as of Thursday, I'm back to work. I basically begged my GP for a fitness to return to work cert in exchange for working exclusively from home for the next month. It turns out I'm not suited to waiting around for things to happen so I may as well fill my day with work that I enjoy. While it looked like this saga was going to be an isolated incident with a gradual return to full health, that seems unclear just now so in the meantime I'll keep myself busy the way that comforts me, by working my socks off!