So by now you’ve heard the whole sorry saga of my week in hospital. I honestly cannot find the words to describe how good it felt to walk through my own front door and crawl into my own big cosy bed. We really do take the little luxuries in life for granted. There is nothing like sliding between freshly laundered sheets, in clean pajamas, after a long hot shower. As mastercard says...priceless.
It’s been four weeks since I was released from the hospital, and while I feel a good bit better than I did in there, things still aren’t great. The consultant is still tap dancing around answers in his best Fed Astaire style, and my sleep is still fairly non-existent.
However, while still a touch anxious, I am by no means depressed. Why are doctors so quick to assume people, and women in particular, are depressed? GP’s seem to prescribe anti-depressant tablets at the drop of a hat, dishing them out like sweeties at a kiddies party. If the NHS is so deep in debt, surely some of that wasted money could be clawed back by cutting down the number of patients who have been misdiagnosed with depression?
The first few weeks out of the hellhole were tough. I was still dragging ass, and unable to get my head in the game enough to read or knit for any length of time. I slowly worked my way back up to activities, feeling childishly proud of myself for something as simple as doing all the dishes in one go, or for getting more than one load of laundry done in a day.
Sadly enough, the highlight of my third week out was the fact that I finally managed to have a go at playing with my new Just Dance game for the Wii. Ok, I only managed one short dance before having to collapse on the sofa, but hey I finally dancing again! It brings you back to the title of today’s blog. Look around you, take in the little things, and above all, appreciate the small pleasures that life offers you.
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