So, three days ago I was in hospital waiting for my lumpectomy. A lovely anaesthetist came over to discuss the operation.
"....then I'll start the anaesthetic, and you'll feel a bit woozy - like you've just had a couple of glasses of wine," he explained.
I tried hard to look nonchalant.
".....once you've come round, the nurse will give you some oral morphine for the pain. Not too much, or it'll take you longer to get up and about and back home..."
After the nightmare two weeks I'd had, the idea of some 'obligatory' oblivion was incredibly tempting. Almost (but not quite, obviously) worth losing part of a boob for.
An hour later, I'm all gowned and stretchered and waiting to go in. The anaesthetist works his magic. We're chatting away when suddenly I feel incredibly light headed, and find it almost impossible to finish my sentence. It's like the middle bit of a great party...
.....then I'm in the recovery room and they give me a syringe full of morphine.
And I'm thinking: Hello numbness. I remember you! Hello, nothing-really-matters, so good to see you. Waaay haaay pink, fluffy cloud, give me a hug.
All was well with the world. For the first time in weeks I wasn't scared. I was all wrapped up in a feather light duvet of lassitude.
I went home, slept like a log, woke up and wrote a post on Friendship. Everything was hunky dory...
.....until it wasn't.
I went for a walk in the park with #1 and the dog. I probably overdid it. Then a bird shat on my head. I kid you not. It was so big I thought I'd been hit by an acorn. It's supposed to be good luck, but it felt like the final indignity.
And I remembered the small print the anaesthetist had given me about the post morphine blues. (I've never been one to dwell on the small print).
And I'm thinking: Hello utter despair. I remember you! Hello irrational anger. Welcome back. Oh, self loathing! You've shown up to join the party.
Then, with total inevitability, the Wine Witch pops her head round the door and says I have just the thing to take the edge off....
Alcohol, morphine, it's all the same. What goes up must come down.
I've moved onto Paracetemol.
Love to you all,