Out of the frying pan and into...

So, this was it. Almost 6 weeks of being too ill to work and now here was my re-entry into the very real world. It might have been drinking wine yesterday and remaining to my incapacidad schedule but had little sleep. Though, for a Monday, that's usual. Too much partying over the weekend. Going to bed late followed by a lie in and a few cheeky ones on Sunday. Topped off with having Sunday night nagging insomnia over my Monday to do list.

I heard my alarm and knew that snooze wasn't an option. It was a command. I threw myself into my morning routine with minimal fannying around. Besides, I had an appointment for counselling at 9am. I needed coffee so that I could express thoughts and fears at least coherently so that my counsellor could be supportive. Actually, it was a good session and yes, I'm getting a lot better at expressing how I feel and it's helping even if it is just having another person who won't get bored and fed up and will leave their issues out of it. And I don't get the guilt about blathering on about myself for an hour. Surely, that's the point?

It was really like I'd never been away from the overcrowded bus, my ability to find a seat and the fear that the drover wouldn't stop at the Anthropology Museum. Same old, same old but refreshingly the same. Well, I'd only been out of action for nearly 6 weeks.

I sneaked into work..no grand entrance for me. Secretly, I'm quite a shy and modest person who hates all the attention and then broached the task I was dreading all along...work emails. All 444 of them. Thankfully, I had my ruthless head on that probably 75% were irrelevant and enjoyed some over zelaous deleting. What fun. I discovered that there were some priorities and action points and not hundreds. Great.

Colleagues kept on dropping by to say 'hello and welcome back'. I'm not sure how many really knew why I disappeared for 6 weeks. I suspect all knew but most were happy to see me back. I was also pretty open that I was exhausted at erm...12 noon.

The day passed and I think I achieved a lot. I hope. I managed 7 hours work though now I'm shattered. I just hope that this good day hasn't set a precedence that I'm ready for a full on workload or I'm going to suffer tomorrow. No setbacks as yet mind you.

As I suspected, my comeback after a 5 and half week hiatus was far more stressful than I speculated. But that's my character. I am the sort of person who stares at the phone for hours before making a call in case the reciever hangs up especially with men. How unfeminist of me.

All I can say is that I'm totally knackered. I hope there will be no insomnia tonight but a good long sleep for a focus group tomorrow. Yes, I'm really (kind of) back at work.

Back to life, back to reality

If someone made a wurdle of this blog, apart from 'I' (may I apoloise now for my narcissm), the most commonly used word could be 'back'. The analogy or metaphor could be going back to somewhere where I was before. Right now, my feelings are that I'm returning from a long and pretty arduous journey which is pretty disimiliar from most of my backpacking adventures. This one has been a whole new and different experience and one probably not to be repeated. Well, you only have a hysterectomy once and for a good reason. The least of which that it's medically impossible.

My next huge step was returning to work. And yes, this was relatively speaking a massive step. I found my previous leaps were going to the park; washing up; cooking dinner and getting drunk. Oh yes, and one more today was going to the market unaccompanied. My main fear is carer's fatigue. My counsellor thinks that this is in my head. It might very well be. I certainly had a case of 'asking for care fatigue' so did it on my own. Sod the consequences. Actually, it wasn't too bad but a slight pulling on my scar and feeling irritable at those trying to sell their wares. No more than my usual Sunday hangover though.

The afternoon was lovely despite feeling emotionally fragile over a few things...well one thing but that's for me to sort out and not something for a public blog. You'd only think I was being neurotic. Anna invited me round for drinks on the roof and with the booze I'm making up for lost time. Probably too much but there was a lot on my mind which needs a little bit of numbing right now. Sometimes, I wish they put a bit too much anaesthetic in my brain and not in my left thigh (which still has a weird post dentist feeling).

Before I sleep, I'll write a list of:

My post op recovery period achievements

1. Wrote this blog...and am pretty overwhelmed by the supportive comments I've recieved. I am so happy that people have actually read it and as long as it supports someone somewhere, then objective achieved.

2. Watched some films including Oscar winning 'The King's Speech' and 'Black Swan'. Courtesy of private viewings from the private collection.

3. Reconnected with good friends from the past

4. Vegan cooking experiments galore...new life plan?

5. Lost 4 kgs though that sounds very pro ana

Post recovery things I should've done but didn't

1. More reading....oops! Well, my brain was scrambled for a while

2. Learn more Spanish...had problems thinking in English most of the time. Failed to read 'The Little Prince' in Spanish.

3. Devise a revolution or at least support a friend with this aim

4. Sleep a lot...it was great at the start but anxiety got in the way of that one

5. Find out my life purpose and goals.

6. Help a friend with IELTS...he's busy, mind you so no point beating myself up over that one

7. Sorting out my CD collection...yes, just realised my collection is a total mess and it was on the 'to do list'

8. Organise my book collection (see above)

And in true Fishwick style..and to prevent a nasty and badly timed bout of insomnia, here's my back to work worry list.

1. The emails!!! There will be 100's of them...crap

2. Will I cry at an inappropriate time?

3. How will I cope with work clothes? I'm not comfortable with them at the best of times and now I've got a delightful slash on my stomach and I've dropped a clothes size. Forgot to buy safety pins to hold my trousers together. Bugger.

4. Have I been rendered useless?

5. What's my bloody password?

6. Financial year...no, I didn't put in some claims. Shit

7. My performance plan...none of it done. Oops

8. Am I going to keep my job for another year?

9. Do I indeed like my job?

10. What are my priorities anyway?

My god...there are many, many more. I don't wish to bore anyone with more of my concerns and worries. It could be be like facing a cold pool for a swim. It always seems far worse than it actually is..though that's a poor comparison. I have an aversion to cold water but you get my drift.

Time to sleep and I really hope I do sleep too.

Lets get ready to rumble

Missions of the day included

1. New haircut
2. Buy Eduardo's present
3. Get drunk at Eduardo's party

Not bad in all and really, this was beginning to sound like a typical Saturday for Liz Fishwick.

The hairdressing experience was really quite positive. The salon was four doors away from my flat and run by a gay couple with cool hair so all looked quite rosy. I loved the salon. The two guys were lovely and gave me what I wanted and the atmosphere in the place reminded me of all the the reasons why I love Mexico. It was almost someone's front room with people coming in and out for chats. The multitasking here can be rather irritating like they are not focussing but things somehow always get done in a way that I don't understand or at least I can't do. So, I'm learning to accept it. For the record, my haircut was fabulous. I loved it and gave them a good tip. Nothing like neighbourhood relationship building here.

The day began to go swimmingly. I got home and quickly went on chat. I saw that a friend who I've met a coupple of times in DF also had IMSS issues and a short conversation resulted in a decision to go for beers in the sun. Wow, I needed to air my new look and also sun and beers...what a great combination! And, I found Ed's birthday present...without hassle. Yes, things were definitely getting better. The catch over beers was lovely too. It was really nice to see this friend again and a boost for me. I was back doing my favourite things.

I returned and got myself ready for Ed's party like a regular Saturday night. A few nerves and all about whether I could still socially interact with people and how could I cope moving outside the inner circle of friends. A few drinks and some good chats where I tried not to talk too much about the operation. I didn't want to depress people. But, I managed..and yes another step.

I woke up slightly hungover and had a feeling that I didn't make a fool of myself. I maybe beared my soul but that's the new me. More honesty in communication with those around me. Whether I'll apply it in all areas and at all times, remains to be seen. I need to be brave and strong and it may mean losing friends in the process or finding new respect.

Fishwick vs IMSS part two

I got myself ready for the reconnaisance trip to IMSS. Elsa and I needed to present a case at the Directors' board meeting at 2pm. They would determine whether I was pulling a fast one and trying to extortionate public money for me. I knew quite well I wasn't. The issue was to convince them that really last week I was unable to work and to go back to work would be irresponsible.

So, it was back to that office. Post blood tests, I tried to do things like organise BUPA paperwork where I can claim for quite a substantial amount and print off a new hairstyle. Both things potentially take time especially for someone who's had a major op; about to face another stressful experience; has been awake since the crack of dawn and can't sleep anyway. As of Monday, I can't make any of these excuses so I'm taking advantage of it now.

Naturally when we arrived, things started late and after a bit of wandering, we were outside the board meeting. Elsa was at her politest especially with the two PA's. They are the best people to get on your side. We waited and waited and waited. The reassuring thought was at the end of the month (it's payday) and a Friday afternoon, no one really wants to work. We were pretty sure that they were ploughing through the action points as swiftly as possible and not be one of those turgid and aimless meetings which go on forever. They trooped out and I saw the director. He took us to his office and I even joined them in the lift. I'm claustrophobic and will try and avoid lifts. This time, I didn't want to let that man out of sight.

Bad news. My claim had been turned down. The good news is that I'm not anaemic and certainly that's one argument for the vegan cause but it did mean that I lost my entitlement for 10 days. In monetary terms, that's a considerable chunk. I earn a pretty good salary here but that's my only source of income. I like to have some leftover money for treats, sundaries and emergencies.

I was furious and frustrated. Elsa encouraged me to calm down but I was beyond calm...not meltdown standard. I have way too much dignity to scream in a public office but of course it has been known and this operation has meant a lot of dignity has not been left intact. Off we went back to the other doctor who in a funny way, had become my ally. Elsa was convinced that he was actually supporting my case. In a weird sort of way, he was. He returned to the director with the decision that I was entitled to the extra 10 days off work. Great! Though after all that hassle, waiting, persuading etc..I really couldn't feel so elated. And we needed to wait again which was only fair. He had sick people to see who were going through the same as I was and no doubt had the same frustrations.

We got it! It was in my hands. Though there were a few things that irked me. He gave some pointless lecture about 'we doctors need to investigate...blah, blah, blah'. Who did he think he was? Doctor House? And I wanted to be spared the guilt trip. They were already driving me mad.  Also, I always want the last word. I didn't get it. I came with my EZLN bag which was kind of cheeky in a government organisation. In all honesty, it matched my outfit and could carry my documents. I swear I wasn't being subversive...really. Elsa made me switch it though. It was for the best. The doctor was still obsessed with finding answers. Another blood pressure check and more comments on my weight but there were none. It was simply a slow recovery from major surgery where things won't happen overnight and it won't necessarily be proved by a quick blood test.  Elsa did all the talking. I agree with this but as a control freak and someone who prides myself on being independent,  I felt very uncomfortable giving up control. Again, another thing which was for the best. More to the point, the incapacidad was in my hands. Result and objective achieved. Not without a fight and not without long hours waiting and waiting. We both reckon that it was down to pure tenancity. Most people would've thought 'fuck it' and believe me, there were a lot of times I was going down that road. But without Elsa's support, I would've surrendered.

One way I can sum up my feelings for the past month is a cage and being trapped. This could be how I was trapped in institutions like hospitals and now the IMSS office. I can't stand being in a lift. So, you can all imagine how it felt to wait and be trapped in a hospital or an office against my will or for my own good. I was also trapped in my body and mind. No energy and no freedom to do what I wanted. This was a combination of both the mental and the physical. I knew that the nurses in my flat for week 2 were necessary but again, I couldn't breathe either. I was also encased with language and needing people to speak on my behalf. Maybe it would be different if I spoke better Spanish and tried harder to learn in the past. But, the things I was dealing with whether it be authorities, emotions, and physical things were all brand new and things that I am still trying to comprehend in my own English speaking brain.

I can see that the cage door is open. Slowly. I feel a lot more free but am still restrained. The harder part may start now when I want to begin rebuilding my life after almost 6 weeks of not doing an awful lot.

My new life or picking up my old life starts now as of today. I'm off to find a hairdressers for a new look. I get the fear (another control thing) about going to salons but I can't reintergrate back into society looking like this. I hope that goes well. Tonight, it's Eduardo's birthday and yes, I'm going. I'm nervous. I can drink but I've got used to my introverted post op bubble. It's become kind of comforting but it's time to relaunch myself back into a social scene so we'll see how it goes and whether indeed I can make it out tonight.

Fishwick vs IMSS part one

I really hope this blog hasn't transformed into a diatribe against IMSS. I totally understand why they are questioning my incapacidad. They need to be help accountable and they can't be handing out sick notes without evidence. Perhaps, it's a good sign that Mexico is subject to less corruption and more rigourous and transparent procedures but...I'm somewhat feeling pretty victimised by it all.

Shit...I said the 'v' word. I apologise.

Yesterday afternoon, I was there again with Elsa in tow. More profuse apologies about the long queue, the waiting time for around 3 and a half hours and my uselessness not to deal with this by myself. I was reckoning up that since my operation, I've spent a disproportionate amount of time hanging around IMSS though from what I see and understand, this is hardly unusual. In fact, quite typical so perhaps I need to quit complaining. I saw the doctor and yes it was that awful man again. The one who refused the incapacidad. Arsehole.

Eventually, we got to see him. It was the same old story. The scar is fine therefore I am fine. It would be helpful to see a psychologist to prove I'm down at the moment. Not an option for reasons throughout the blog. However and now I'm not sure if this was an excuse to refuse my incapacidad or at least make it difficult, apparently, Mexicans genetically have lower rates of haemoglobin so anaemia is generally not taken as an excuse for taking time off work. The fact that I don't have a drop of Mexican blood surpassed them, but anyway, I'm in the Mexican system so am treated accordingly. I'm now researching articles online to prove this point, but medical journals are not my speciality.

The doctors were willing to bring my case to the board. What I needed to do was take blood tests to prove that I am anaemic though my regular intake of iron tablets, folic acid and vegan yet iron rich food so the anaemia could be counteracted. I may and I am deeply ashamed of this, could play the vegan card. I really don't want to..but needs must.

Anyway, I had reached the end of my tether for all kind of reasons. I've had enough of tests, talking about the operation and people coming along to help. All I want to do is get on with my life. I cried in the surgery but somehow Elsa convinced me to go.

I braced myself for an early start. These anxious thoughts are keeping me awake so really to get to IMSS at 6:30am was the last thing I needed. More anxious thoughts but at least I woke up, bleary eyed and so tired that I forgot I had to bring along some pee. I managed to squeeze a bit out though.

I was there and saw a neverending queue. I got a wave of despair, started to cry again and was on the verge of texting Elsa and telling her 'No, it's not worth it'. In fact several times, I continually asked myself, 'Is it worth it?' After 3 months of continual checks, invasions, help and support, I felt violated, overwhelmed and exhausted. Could I deal with more stress? All I wanted was to enjoy my last day before going back to work and do something nice like get my hair done.

Luckily, a guy in the long queue spoke English and helped out a bit. Even better, the medical staff took the blood test quickly so I was home by 8am. Much better than I expected.

Now my thoughts now are about haircuts. I urgently need to get something done but time is against me. I'm thinking about a new colour but would my excuse of missing a board meeting because a cut and colour is far better for my mental state wash?

I just hope they make a decision quickly so I can get on with the more pleasant things in life and prepare for my integration into the real world.

Existential crisis or the dangers of having too much time to think

Sorry, yet another self centred post about the dark thoughts of Liz. Anyway, I hope this helps anyone who is going through the same process.

Having time is a luxury for me. Usually, I don't have a lot with work, with friends or with other things that I do. I am now learning that time can be an enemy and can provoke the odd crisis. I've been thinking a lot and perhaps too much. I'm concerned that my passion for life has gone down the toilet but was it there anyway?
I'm pondering the usual questions of existence like whether I am changing the lives of others and would such aspirations be idealistic. Have I let myself down? Am I an activist in thoughts but not in deeds?

My question is are such thoughts leading to a change in life or is it simply that I've stopped and given myself some much needed time. Or is having the luxury of time and space to think is confusing and destructive?

Time will tell when I get caught up in the so called rat race next week. I've had a chat with my manager about returning to work. The target is Monday the 28th of February. I've been awake with anxiety about a whole plethora of issues along with others. She has promised a lot of support and I've promised to be honest. If the tasks get too much or too overwhelming, then it's fine. I'm just concerned about short term memories and perhaps not being open enough myself that sometimes, I won't be able to cope. I just need to keep on with the mantra that strenght can manifest itself in very different ways and not just that of 'getting on with it'. Let's hope that I can do it.

My friend Elsa's also off work so we had time to meet up and hang out. Another person who spends far too much time at the desk and not enough time for herself. She's had her tonsils out so can't swallow. I'm not able to have sex or at least such a thing would be risky. Her joke is that we would make a terrible pair of prostitutes right now.

I broke down in her car. A few things made me feel pretty fragile and yes, the tears came. I hated it but then I realised that actually it's OK. I really appreciated the honesty of the conversation though. Her mum has also had a hysterectomy and understands that to say 'Are you better?' isn't necessarily the best question. In fact, it could be one of the worst. I'm answering positively to please others and this is not a reflection of how I really feel. She apologised that some of her thoughts were negetive but to be honest, the positive spin on events has begun to grate. This links in with a comment from a friend whose husband died suddenly last year. He was in his 40's. She told me that people have said to her a lot over the last year that everything happens for a reason. My first thoughts are 'What a cliche! People are just saying words because they don't know what to say.' Then, I really liked the next comment that she is still looking for the reasons and in the meantime, she's going to enjoy life. Basically, to rationalise the irrational is destructive. I cannot compare our two situations but she's right. There are no reasons why these things happened to us.

Once I got all my feelings out of my system, we had a lovely evening. The usual things like laiughing at websites, talking about men, laughing at the losers on Craig's List looking for love. Maybe this is what I needed. A good evening far away from my flat and my thoughts. Laughing and not looking for reasons or answers to any of the above questions.

The Guilt Trip

God (how appropriate)...how I hate being brought up Catholic. I'm an atheist now, have no issues surrounding sex and most sins but the guilt. It's like syphillus and will never go away. After feeling guilty about being lazy and not doiung anything, I decided to cure some of the defeciencies I've got, so off I went to Plaza Rio Janiero to read my book. Durimg that short time, on top of the previous guilt trips, I had three more..

1. A man said 'hello' to me. I glared at him like he was a rapist then realised he could be a friend of a good friend. Oh well..one can always blame the op. Memory loss and the (lack of) ability to run away from men.

2. Two market researchers approached me about some survey. I was happy reading and my Spanish sucks. Then thought that this job is all about facing rejection and something I'd never do as I'm scared of rejection and it would've been great Spanish practice.

I'm not sure if feeling guilty is a side effect of a hysterectomy, being me, or being a Catholic but I sure have a whole lot more time to think and feel like shit about my own existence.

I've been thinking about my appearance a bit and yes feeling bad that how can I think of such superficial things. My hair's a mullet. Now body hair...yeuch! I am so happy that my libido is pretty lacklustre because I wouldn't sleep with me if I saw me in a bar. I can almost plait my hairs on my legs and lets not go down the pubic area (and no...no one would go down there unless they had a hairy lady fetish). I want to post on hystersisters about would it be advisable to get a wax done as I resemble a Victorian porn model but admist all these stories of pain and some pretty serious shit, then such things ring shallow. Or do they? The most popular post so far was all about drinking booze.

I do love the perception of my facebook update..'Liz needs to buy some acid'. Like as if. Post op or not, I haven't touched it in years and it's Tuesday afternoon. I needed to clarify 'folic acid'. I need to get my kicks from somewhere, right?

Un poco de poco

The final stretch is here of no work and yes, it's on my mind. Also, I'm feeling so much better but am terrified of these minor blips which can attack and creates doubts that I'm still not so good. I need to definitely get my sleeping pattern back to normal. I've noticed that I sleep late with my head filled with anxieties and as a result, wake up late and have some very lazy mornings. Then, I feel all guilty about being slovenly and not doing anything. I need another worry list but I've got no one to share it with. Thank god that the EAP counsellor phoned yesterday. This should help me deal with the psychological side of the operation. There's a lot to process and think about here. It might make me feel better to share some concerns here though.

1. Work anxiety. How to manage and how to cope. Can I work reduced hours? What happens if I can't renew my contract?

2. IMSS and the admin side of post op. Need to do it..but the office is really stressful.

3. Carer fatigue and have people got bored of me. How aware are they that this operation does have a long recovery time?

4. Are some being a bit distant right now? Or am I creating distance? Or is it both?

5. How long will it be before I'm 100% or near as damn it?

6. Have I missed any bureaucractic procedures?

7. Am I being lazy?

8. Could I do any more?

Despite the slight hangover, yesterday was a good day. I met with Andrew for a wander around. I still tire easily but it's much better than before and perhaps an all day Sunday session may have had a lot to do with it. I'm glad though that slowly, I'm getting there. Some things are not following the hysterectomy rule book but what was that anyway? I see posts all the time from the 'hyster sisters' like I did everything right and I still got in a mess.' Maybe there is a case that doing what I want now and again can and does help.

I'm now going to plough through my to do list. Again, I'm being the Queen of Procrastination right now and this is clearly work avoidance or fear. I've got a tendency to avoid things I find tough or I don't like doing and this may have contributed to my latest list of anxieties. OK...time to go and act. Sitting on my arse isn't helping anyone here.

Sunday is the new Saturday

It seems that I'm waking up from the stupor like the 'Sleeping Beauty'. Though without the handsome prince and with the support of friends. I was dreading waking up as I was wondering would it be another day of nothingness and fatigue. But no, began to feel actually quite good. A friend from work came to help me with the market run and it was good to be back on track. Doing things that I like buying vegetables and planning exciting vegan food though with help. I'm still not comfortable with that though and can't wait to be independent once more.

Andrew wanted to see me which was great. We talked and caught up and we assessed me at being around 60 percent which again is progress though a little slow. I'm getting more relaxed with the idea that it's not going be overnight. Queer beers beckoned...well it was a sunny sunday afternoon and we were both pretty thirsty. I wasn't entirely convicned this was a good idea, in fact it was probably bloody stupid but hey ho...get me on a good day and I crave my normal life back and with immediate effect.

The afternoon passed in drunkeness, laughter and conversation. God, it was good to be back again. I felt guilty like I'm ill but sometimes I find there's nothing wrong as long as it made me feel better. More drinks and then hunger so Andrew suggested we went to his to cook dinner and have a nice glass of red. Interpreted loosley of course.

I took control in the kitchen to prepare a chilli and was drinking wine. It was weird to think that only one month ago, I was there unable to do a thing other than be waited on hand and foot and sleep. And now, here I was. It felt great and like there was a real acheievement. Andrew and I also went to the market together. Again, another mile stone and comparison. The local market was where I took my maiden voyage with Debbie only to be overwhelmed and now here I was drunk, happy and stronger. It was great to see Debbie and for her to see me better.

After some lovely food, copious wine, forced exposure to Ricky Martin and Enrique Juglesis, we settled to watch 'Caberet' though I was far too drunk to follow and passed out. Unceremoniously. On his couch. I hope to god I wasn't snoring or sleeptalking. I woke up and got myself out and took a taxi home.

A huge leap here...again, drinking lots isn't something I would necessarily advocate as a sign of recovery or getting better. I also thought that this period may curtail the partying a bit but all is good that I'm slowly returning to a normal life. Whatever that it.

I woke up Monday morning..hungover and tired. Not in the best way but certainly not horrendous. I do feel guilty that I went out drinking when I should be convelescing but I could debate this ad infinitum. So, I'll stay positive and think that the steps I made yesterday and all on a sunday afternoon.

In between days..

This anaemia and post hysterectomy recovery is a bit of a bugger. One minute I'm back to me (whoever that is) and then the slug which can only move as far as the couch. It's making plans for the weekend, the day or even the next day a little bit challenging to say the least.

Last night, I crashed on the couch and even had a snooze. I forgot all ideas about making any kind of plans for the evening. Charlotte returned with a perceieved disastrous haircut which made her look like a gay man though I quite liked it. It seems that the only remedy for a bad hairdresser's experience is alcohol so off she went to buy wine and I did a cooking experiment, vegan mac and cheese, apparently the best ever. I needed to see what the score was and indeed if it was despite mac and cheese being a US concept. Actually, it was lovely. Charlotte liked it too and I'm happy to one who can veganise things.

We were talking, eating and drinking though I was still fuzzy and my phone rang. Andrew. Either he needed a drink ( a queer beer) or there was some crisis bubbling. It was a crisis. Him and his BF had broken up and he needed to meet up. Really, I was shattered and going to Zona Rosa for one was against my better judgement but he needed a friend and he's been ever so supportive with me. We met and he talked. He welcomed the opportunity to let off steam and relax. I was happy to be there and support him. He tried to persuade me to go to Living but that would've been way too ambitious.

I slept and slept and slept and woke up feeling not too bad. In fact quite good and ready to do something. Having Charlotte around helped but also it meant that I couldn't slob out comfortably. Maybe, it's a good thing to have someone around to stop me retreating into myself?

She wanted to see El Chopo Market and I was quite keen to get back to one of my favourite places in the city. It's an alternative market for all subcultures and one of my favourite people watching spots. Of course, it's of a similiar ilk to Camden Market, Afflecks Palace and Amerika Mura but with different ethnic groups. The clothing remains more or less the same but it's refreshing to be surrounded with others with piercings and tattoos. Now, I remembered exactly why I was reluctant to go to El Chopo. It's crowded and without sounding anti Mexican here, as a sweeping generalisation, a lot of people lack spatial awareness. They tend to bump into others or just stop randomly. Really annoying at the best of times. Today, I noticed it more than usual and also I was getting irritable with others. I put it down to exhaustion and anaemia and again..a small thing can be overdoing it.

I returned home and was ready to rest. Charlotte took some photos for her project of me which were lovely but I was dropping off and it showed. As always, I wanted to retreat into myself. Was a good idea to keep on this thought or feeling? Or maybe I need it right now. There was also another interesting idea from Charlotte relating to adoption. Adoptees apologise a lot for their own existence. They hate to be an imposition and ask for help. Once more, things fell into place. In some ways, I'm happy I can blame this on an incident of which I had no control.

For a recovering person, I have options for a night out. Not bad going really. The straight edge musician has a concert tonight. I really wouldn't mind going but issues like distance and lots of people are pretty daunting right now. I know that one friend might be there. But then again. I like to go to these events to meet people and right now, I don't have the energy to talk to good friends. Zoe's called and has invited me round for dinner. Right now to play safe seem the better option both physically and emotionally. Charlotte is at the airport trying to change her ticket. Once more, decision making is hard to do and right now is even more challenging with this exhaustion.

Fingers crossed that normal serivce will be resumed soon.

I've been tired

Today was going to be the day to find out how things are and if indeed I'm recovering. Yes, I was going back to visit my old friend Doctor Quiroz to discuss post op things like:

1. Have my ovaries died a death? According to the internet, I'm supposed to feel like I'm ovulating with sore tits and bad moods. So far, nada. Not that I'm really missing it, but I don't fancy menopause adding to my problems. Plus, my libido has disappeared along with my uterus.

2. When do I return to work? the million dollar question

3. Can I lift and how much? I think friends are getting sick of the supermarket and market run. Besides, I like doing it at my pace and being vegan, check all the labels for animal products.

4. When can I resume sexual activity? Another million dollar question. It's not that I get it on a regular basis but you never know and I need to plan my answer carefully if and when it happens

5. Why am I feeling depressed? Well...I can ask that question anytime

6. When can I travel? Right now, going to chill somewhere sounds great but could I handle a bus journey. Walking round the block is hard work right now.

7. Why I am losing weight? I thought I'd balloon and be all neurotic about this...but no, getting thinner and thinner.

8. Why is my stomach still senstive and what's with these funny little cramps? I guess the answer's obvious..erm..you've had a hysterectomy.

9. Why can't I sleep? A question I could ask anytime but now I've got the full attention of a doctor.

10. Can you persuade IMSS or otherwise I'm still not well?


I went along with Charlotte and noted that my mood and energy levels were deteriorating rapidly. Was the whole trip a trigger of a less unpleasant period or was it symptomatic that there are really good days and today was going to be a not so good one?

Thankfully, I got the appointment right so a nice little buzz for my Spanish. It was all too familiar and I was happy to see the doctor again. And we even attempted English so if I've done something good, then I've helped him a bit with other languages. I went through my questions and most importantly, he agreed to a longer period off work. But as one friend puts it..'IMSS doctors are good if you need the money. Private doctors are good if you need the time off'. How very true.

I asked the doctor my questions and then it was off for the examination. I know the drill now. Strip off, ugly robe and legs open wide. No dignity spared and really my inhibitions which were quite low before have gone. A quick internal and all is healing well. I'm almost physically back down there. But there is the current problem of being very anaemic and losing more weight. God, this is irritating. I really didn't want to be an anaemic vegan. It's so, so..well stereotypical. And such a poor advertisment. I've only been anaemic once in my life when I was 12 with a prolonged and heavy period (so perhaps a precurser of what is to come..) and then I ate meat and quite a lot of it. Then was subject to being force fed liver by my mum. Thankfully, this is not the case now.

I got my answers too...and here they are in summary below.

1. My ovaries are alive and well and should kick into action in a month or two. No period of course.

2. 10 more days off! I'm actually quite happy about that especially as I feel awful right now.

3. I can lift my handbag or my EZLN bag but nothing heavier. Looks like still need the supermarket support then.

4. I'm healing so I can have sex again. Though I'm confused if it's now or in a month. Well, it's not as if it's all the time and it will hurt him more due to the stitching and dressings inside of me. Feminist revenge? Yay!

5. The depression is normal and I'm dealing with it

6. I can travel! That makes me happy but of course I need some help with my backpack

7. Shite..I'm getting thinner and down to 40 kgs. The doctor still isn't convinced I eat.

8. Poorly stomach...minor symptoms and all hysterectomy related. Nothing much to worry about.

9. Insomnia...offered to get me some sleeping pills though decided against it

10. Letter for IMSS - no problem at all. I hate to say it but really the private sector for these things is actually quite pleasant.

Unlike yesterday, my short trip to the doctor's was enough. I was getting stroppy and tired so needed to retreat back to the couch. The most I plan to do right now is a little bit of blogging, some chatting and researching how to boost my flagging iron levles. Apart from being a crappy vegan, this anaemia sucks. I have found a really helpful list iron in a vegan diet and have noted down the foods I like. I'll load up and see what happens along with lots of iron supplements.

Oh yes..doesn't red wine contain iron too? So all is not so tragic afterall

The bitch is back

Today is the first day I consistently felt like me. No exhaustions or fatigues. No urge to cry. I could walk around without pain. Wow! I'll be back at work before you know it, drinking too much and all the other things which are highly inconducive to a healthy life.

A friend who couchsurfed with me before the holidays is staying with me. Sounds crazy but Charlotte knows the story and is sympathetic, kind and encouraging. So all is well here. She also owns a project about adoption documenting her own journey of tracing her birth/biological family in Brazil. Now, when she stayed with me before, I told her that I was adopted too. We shared a lot of thoughts and discussions about this. In fact, she has changed my thinking and how I perceive my life. She asked yesterday if I could record a testimony and of course I was happy to do so. And a photo session too.

I began to feel like a lady of leisure. I casually checked my emails. I ate a leisurely breakfast. I found out Anna was ill yesterday so phoned her and had a long chat. I could get used to this, you know.

Charlotte asked if we could do the work for her project today and I was happy to do so. First, she wanted a place so I chose the Momuento de Madre near my flat and for the significance about motherhood and parenting and how my view is different. These days, it's shifting and become even more flexible. She requested words and so I scribbled 'potentially like me'. A nice double meaning there. The photo shoot was fun though there were a couple of stoners smoking weed which impeded some of the shoots..but nevermind.

We went for lunch in a vegetarian/vegan resturant called El Corazon de Arbol via one of the sex shops. I'd been to an event there and was quite keen to try the food. It's always a great thing to have choices too. What a lovely place it was...a roof, a menu where I was spoilt for choice, good company and friendly staff. We ordered and then Charlotte started the interview. I enjoyed it. My story is really quite normal. No tragedy or trauma. Just a regular family who for the most part showed me love and kindness. Maybe it's boring and mudane. But also, perhaps such a story could support too. Oh yes, the food was great. I opted for 'plato de mes' on the grounds that it might not be available again and as for the other options, I'm happy to return.

I needed to rush off and meet my visitors. I actually did break into a little run. Penelope came to see me with her baby. Now for one who has no longer the ability to have a child, I'm spending a disproportinate amout of time with women with babies. Last year, there was a pregnancy trend at work and now they are all born, alive and well. Funnily enough, I was an outside bet for bearing a child. Little did we know how outside that would be..

Penelope came bearing gifts from The UK or Heathrow Airport (she'd just returned from Australia where she's from). I rebuked her offer of chocolates and instead asked for Bizarre, FHM and some Original Source shower gel. The only products I desire from the UK. Engeli showed up too. Martin (Penelope's baby) obviously got the vibe this was not a child friendly flat and started bawling. I suggested a walk around the block to calm him down.

Overall, I did really well. I still have energy at 00:25. I'm slightly insomniac anyway, but I had a great day. My only fear now is that I feel like an imposter or a skiver. Like, if I'm well enough to go for lunch and hang out with friends surely I could handle a day at work. Or am I too afraid to return to work? My concern is that have I simply become lazy and actually enjoy having nothing to do. Anyway, it will all be a shock to the system and one which I'll have to face sooner rather than later.

Damn Red Tape

I have made reference a few times to IMSS and getting an incapacidad so that I can take sufficient time off work. And yes, I can safely say it actually can make a person sicker. This is not meant to be Mexico bashing. That's not my intention.

So, my 30 days sick leave is due to end. I'm still not 100% with periodic dizzy spells, fatigue, stomach cramps and the rest. The doctor for the home visits was actually reasonable and commented that 6 weeks would be realistic not four. For once, I agreed.

Today was incapacity renewal day. My plans were of a more chilled nature. Keri invited me to her flat to lounge on the roof. read and have a change of scene. Also, I needed to give my cleaner some space to sort out my very very messy flat. We ended up spending the best part of the day in IMSS arguing with doctors that I indeed not ready to return to work.

The first visit was to get a signature for a cheque. Not such a pain but pretty annoying that he forgot to sign my incapacidad. so Keri and I had to return via picking up her baby daughter from the nursery. We returned to get the signature and then I noticed that there was a very short queue for doctors so thought about killing two birds with one stone and visiting the doctor there and then. No more home visits etc..The usual doctor was on holiday so there was a grim faced man and I just knew there would be some bad outcome.

Keri did all the talking and explained the situation. The doctor said that 'well she can walk'. He prodded my stomach and hurt me. My extension was refused. Keri began arguing depression and lack of energy. He said then I need to see the IMSS psychologist which would determine depression as a result of the operation. What a load of shite. It's more that I'm not completely healed and a bit more time off would benefit a lot.

We visited the other boss and faced the same response. No incapacidad. Arseholes. What to do?

I phoned my manager and she was more than OK and agreed that the whole thing was ludicrous and I shouldn't return to work before time.

So, yes, they are in between days. Not actually sick but can't face work and wouldn't be able to deliver. It was really Keri and I against the system and I was left feeling like a shirker depsite Keri reassurances it was a bad doctor.

It seems far more hassle to be off work than in work so am wondering would it be good to return?

Hysterectomy blogs I like..

I'm in list making mode like I was yesterday with Valentine's songs. I've also been reading other blogs and there's some really good stuff out there. Not tales of warm family life and husbands but some serious analysis about the operation, the issues and the conflicts. I admire the frankness of all of them with the consistent them that they have done the right thing. One is funny as well and I say hats off to anyone who can make light of a dark situation.

I've complied a list of three that I like and if you're reading this blog for support purposes, I recommend you take a look at these posts.

Flying Confessions

Lorraine addresses the personal and political side of a hysterectomy where it seems that our organs are controlled by a male medical establishment. Such thoughts have been on my mind since my operation and whether I was really given a choice and the chance to explore alternatives. For me, I am in a country where gender equality (although a lot better than most) has some way to go, but my feeling is that the tumor had become unmanageable. I didn't have pains every month but surely it's not healthy to have something useless the size of an orange?

The post addresses that in the past, a hysterectomy was there to curtail sexual freedom and was akin to a castration. This view has gathered some momentum amongst feminists about male control over femaleness and sexuality and has resulted in hostility from them. I am unequivocally a feminist however, the procedure was medical and dealt with a problem. I am not defined by my womb. My gender and political identity is something which goes beyond this. I heard that Lorraine received hate mail and for that, I was angry. A hysterectomy is not an easy procedure to face and I would hope that one would recieve support from a sisterhood.

She addresses the issue of sex and yes, she feels it gets better. In fact, the operation enhanced her sexual pleasure and I hope her frankness will support other women with the same fears. It has certainly given me some hope.

You can also find the post here
Blogging my Hysterectomy

Hysterics: Are Hysterectomies Too Common

There are other posts which address doctors overeagerness to perform hysterectomies when for the most part they are not necessary as above. This is also set within a political context of ethnicity and how they are more likely to be performed on non white women with some underlying agenda of eugenics (as in the past). Naturally, I wonder about these arguments and yes, a lot of them ring true. Like most surgeries, there are questions of the necessity of it and also does it really help address the issues or effectively solve a health problem. Overriding all of this is the issue of cost. I am trying to read these ariticles though they do make me slightly more neurotic and then leave me pondering for hours 'if I did the right thing..but whatever. It's too late now. Anyway, this article is well argued and I like the fact it's part of an alternative news website so worth promoting.

Does this hysterectomy make me look fat?
I discovered this by accident while I was browsing around the facebook page for the Hysterectomy Association. It's written by a 30 year old woman who after her hysterectomy went through menopause. I love it. It's funny and to the point. She uses humour about the situations she's in and it definitely raised a smile.

My Bloody Valentine

Love and romance is never on my mind. Especially for this cynical woman who hates anything commercial, sickly or pink. Sex is on my mind a lot of the time usually but right now, I don't think I'll ever do it again. I'm way too self conscious about scars inside and outside and that will be the case for a while. Also, I'm reading far too much and am concerned that it will never be the same again. I could (literally) have a test ride someone I've slept with before but it all seems far too clinical and nobody wants to be a guinea pig..

I thought in fitting with today and a Valentine's theme, I'll compile a list of my favourite 'love' songs or songs which make me think of these things along with a few comments too..and in no particular order

1. Lunachicks - Bad Ass Bitch - That's me...on a good day

2. Bikini Girl - Rebel Girl - 'in her kiss, I taste revolution' and 'I want to take you home and try on your clothes'. revolution + fashion = hot

3. Amy Winehouse - You know I'm no good - I'm wondering how many of them have thought that..

4. My Bloody Valentine - Soft as Snow - Reminds me of a fuzzy, slightly hungover, sunday morning shag with bad weather outside so no incentive to face the day whatsoever

5. PJ Harvey - Is this love? - Passion, lust or love? I really like this feeling (when it happens) and then I go all silly and defensive and ruin it all

6. PJ Harvey - Who the Fuck? - it often results in these feelings..

7. Sheela Na Gig - PJ Harvey - best song ever about masturbation

8. White Stripes - Fell in love with a girl - 2 minutes of charged craziness

9. Joy Division - Love will Tear Us Apart - ultimate song of screwed up love and relationships

10. The Smiths - How Soon is Now? - soundtrack of a angst ridden adolescence, 20's and sometimes erm..30's

11. The Cure - Just like Heaven - love the dark, quirky and cutesy feel to this sweet song

12. The Breeders - Doe - a song about BJs? Not my favourite thing on the menu but a lovely song

13. Pavement - Shady Lane - not much to do with love and so on..but I just really like it

14. Smashing Pumpkins - Today - I believe I've felt this and sexy video too

15. Dinosaur Junior - Freak Scene - wonderful song! I may have snogged to a young man in an indie club and one which I dedicate to those who are there for me

16. Pavement - Summer Babe - more quirkiness...reminds me of kissing in the sun

17. Pixies - Gigantic - Do I really have to comment?

18. Nine Inch Nails - Closer - Pure kinkiness, dirt and depravity - on vinyl

19. Pixies - I've been Tired - My seduction technique...older woman, beer, talking politics.

20. Simon and Garfunkel - I am a Rock - the ultimate song for cynics and yes, sometimes walls are better.

Sunday morning...

My phone rings at some unearthly hour and I wake up..thankfully not hungover but feeling slightly rough. Not as bad as I thought but perhaps I'll keep on the minimal alcohol thing for some time until I'm stronger. It was a weird kind of pissedness. Like a small amount really affected me and I got all dizzy. Clearly, my tolerance had subsided and time will tell if it will ever be the same again. More to the point, I'll have a lot of fun and frolics trying..

Anyway, it was Andrew and we had a hanging out date doing whatever I wanted to do. He sounded spritely and chirpy as always. May I add, he's a legendary caner and party animal yet he's on facebook at some ungodly hour communicating with the world. I can't help but admire his tenancity.

It was a lovely Mexico City morning. I live right next to this artist's market which gives a convivial bohemian air to my neightbourhood. Also, there's a great fruit and veg market too and as I hadn't been for a while, it was great to go back and have Andrew carrying the bags for me. No I don't like it but right now, it needs to be done. He was enjoying it and was admiring some of the cute guys there. I was admiring the fresh veg. Andrew informed me that most were straight. Any gay worth his salt wouldn't have emerged on Sunday at 12 noon and will be either still fucking, sleeping or partying.

Later on, I continued my spurt of new found energy and met up with a girl I met a while ago. A vegan film maker who was interesting and it was about time I pushed myself out of my comfort zone of just hanging out with close friends. I was worried that I'd forgotten how to socialise and relate to people apart from a select few and even that could be difficult.

The afternoon was pleasant and it was great to forget to be a sick person for a while. Surely, it was hard work but nonetheless, it was doable. I left feeling quite happy.

What really made me happy though was that I got glimmers of myself again. It's days like this make me realise that I could be well on the way to recovery.

A small glimmer

It's the weekend and there were small glimmers that I was myself again. In a little way but nevertheless, I was coming back.

As always, I slowly emerged and in fact was beginning to dread the weekend. This is when I feel the emptiness the most and miss my former self. I stocked up on Doctor House season one and tried to think of things to do which would stop me feeling down and useless.

Now, one thing happened which put a smile back on my face. My really good friend from yesteryear and my first ever GBFF from when I was a student many years ago and by coincidence also just had an operation, caught me on Skype. What fun this was..we used the webcam so we could see each other and yes, I am still marvelled by modern technology. Now, Dean had a few drinks so was drunk but happy drunk. Obviously, he decided that sometimes defying medical advice can be positive and sometimes all this denial at the end of the day might not speed up a recovery. I like people who follow a 'little of what you fancy' line of thought. We had a really good giggle about lots of things and he began to play music and what a list of classics appeared. Such as Let's fly a kite and then Dean unearthed Mori Kanti - Yeke Yeke. Neither of us had heard this in years and we both recalled dancing on the stage on various substances while at university. And we were grooving away via Skype and on the webcam. Loved it.

Zoe and Eduardo phoned me at the same time. I was invited over to Eduardo's to eat, drink and chill out. Of course I went along and realised it was time to start a social life again. By coincidence, I had a read of the hyster sisters online support group. Sometimes, admist all the biblical nonsense, there's good advice and it's great to see that some of the things I'm going through are normal. One post caught my eye about drinking alcohol. My ears pricked up (metaphorically speaking) and saw a post by a woman who had the operation the same day as me. And yes, the uninformed medical opinion is that it's fine and once a person is off medication then they can. Yay!! Naturally, I purchased a bottle of wine on the way to Eduardo's to see what would happen. Worst case scenario..I'm with good friends and in a flat so there was some damage limitation there.

The evening was fun though I must admit the wine hit me very very quickly. Whether it was enjoyable..I have mixed feelings but it was a step and one which I hope will get better and better. We ate sushi, we talked and watched Black Swan (again). Eduardo and I reenacted the Swan Lake which is probably not how to behave when on sick leave but oh well...whatever takes your fancy.

Then a small disaster struck. I fell and not sure if this was down to drunkeness or simply Ed's wonky chair. Or was Ed saying that to make me feel better. Anyway, I got upset that I ruined my first night 'out' and to make it worse, I cut my finger. Ouch.

Zoe stayed round and I felt comforted by this. It sounds babyish and needy but I've began to realise that I can be at times. We hazarded another glass...naughty, naughty so all I can say is 'cheers' and lets face the consequences later..

A revolution outside with a revolution inside

The world's changing and for once I can follow and see what's going on in the world. A story which is of particular interest is Egypt. The people have won and Mubarak has resigned. I have lived in the Middle East and know that democracy is a precarious model and situation. The dictatorships can act as a safeguard against fundementalism but at what cost? Clearly, the people want freedom, democracy and a transparent society. How they reach that and whether it comprises the relative freedom offered by a secular society, I will follow with interest.

I am trying to follow the news. It keeps me focussed and gives some perpective. For me, I want to be informed and up to date. Plus, it gives me other things to talk about other than this bloody operation.

There is perhaps a mini revolution going on inside me. It's difficult to explain and I heard about this from an outside perspective. This relates to the depression and the general feeling of uselessness which is going on right now. Earlier, I contacted the Employers Assistance Programme (EAP). This is a helpline to help employees living abroad who are going through difficult times. Like me. I called them and yes, found some administrative stuff quite irritating and also using Skype has plenty of disadvantages too. The line isn't too clear and I kept on getting cut off. Hardly the optium conditions for opening my heart which as I mentioned before is hard at the best of times. I think and I sincerely hope they can support me. I'm not sure what they can do and finding face to face counselling in Mexico City can be a challenge given my physical limitations and in addition, language. I'm not exactly comfortable with expressing my feelings in English and certainly I am far from able to do this in Spanish where most of my adjectives are positive ones which don't reflect my feelings at the best of times.

Later, after this quite stressful phone call which I'm still trying to figure out was it the Skype connection or me pushing myself out of the comfort zone, I talked briefly with my mum. Though, I did something not so nice. She phones me daily. Sometimes, I really have nothing to say and don't really want to talk. Obviously, she wants to be there for me and it's clearly frustrating that she can't and I hope she's not too upset that I declined call from Skype.

Some friends came round. Again, I wasn't sure how much of the mask should I reveal. I erred on the side of caution and kept it on. Sometimes, it's easier that way. When I was alone with Andrew, I let him know that I contacted the EAP whilst in the supermarket. He's happy for me and sees this as a positive sign that I am addressing issues and seeing that psychological wellbeing is essential for a full recovery.

Now, Anna came later to help with the visit from the IMSS doctor. You know, the usual procedure of her visiting me to see if I'm sick and then to sign a cheque which is my payment. Before the doctor arrived, I admitted to Anna that I'd contacted the EAP and then the floodgates opened and didn't stop. The doctor arrived which cut short or temporarily delayed my outpouring but at least I could discuss with her my feelings both mental and physical. This may have some implications about my length of leave from work. It could be extended by 2 weeks. The thought is quite scary and yes, there are strong feelings of loneliness and boredom impending would that counteract the feelings of stress of returning to work?

The doctor left and we were free. Anna told me something which vocalised what I was thinking but didn't dare address. There are some fundemental changes going on. She said previously, I had built barriers and walls. This is very true. Act tough, be hard and be the cool chick to hang out with but don't let people get close or see me. It's been my survival tactic for quite a long while. It seems that the barriers are crumbling slowly and perhaps painfully but it's still there. In a weird way, by what I see as weak perhaps then I'm being stronger. The quandry is will I be back to myself or does the surgery mean some changes to my personality and for the better?

Of course, I miss me. That's a hard thing to come to terms with and it's permnamently etched on my mind. How 'me' will emerge post operation is another point and one which like the world news, I will observe with great interest.

Half a person

After the meltdown, would things be better? Not necessarily more that I was left with a sense of emptiness which wouldn't go away with immediately and could be here for some time.

I settled into a routine of pirate films, writing, attempting to do a little more each day, feeling guilty for wasting time on facebook (like I had anything interesting to contribute) and sleeping. A lot. Though at night, I was finding it more difficult to settle and harder to wake during the day. The mornings passed quicker and I was disgusted at myself messing arund on facebook gone 11am with no intention of showering. Where was my motivation and also really was I being lazy or simply recovering from a major operation?

One more thing which could've been potentially tragic but wasn't..my laptop also required some surgery. It's been not working as well as it should've been. Some of my friends are Mac fans so obviously blamed it on being a PC. I don't know enough to care or really intelligently comment. So I don't and just smirk and comment 'boys and their toys'. Thankfully, there was a computer repair place next door, a friend with very good Spanish and perhaps the same level of computer knowledge but sometimes, it's best to leave it to the experts (like I will with my body and mind).

It would take some time. I tried the working from home arguement but I knew it would be ready in their time, not mine. Besides, it was about time I attemped to read more and had a mountain of books to get through and films to watch so things could be far far worse.

The annoying thing was (on top of the hysterectomy and feeling 'meh' all the time) was that I could do things but in a limited way. A short walk with friends and I'm on the couch for a while. This was disturbing and not my style at all.

On Thursday, Keri took me to the supermarket for a shop. I really appreciated this and another step and another test run. Well, at first Keri thought it would be a good idea to get one of those motorised carts. I had my doubts like it was public humiliation. I can't even ride a bicycle or drive a car. What the fuck was I doing driving round the supermarket looking a bit silly and heading for a disaster? Most doctors say that women shouldn't drive post op for a while so wondering if that included shopping carts. I panicked. I'm not used to steering anything so we gave up on that idea and took a trolley instead.

Things went well and we even had a Starbucks afterwards though I must add I am a little bit ashamed that it was my seond visit this week. Not all of my friends share the same ethics as I do..or maybe they are just a bit less uptight about these things.

I returned home and once more, the couch beckoned. More snoozing and this has seriously thrown into doubt about will I be ready to return to work in a week. A trip to the supermarket knocked me for six so what would a long day with all the trials and tribulations do to me. Unless there's some serious improvement and soon.

On a postive note, I planned a meal for Zoe later..pad thai and peanut sauce. I finished reading Persepolis which I loved and thankfully I could follow. Then I watched the film and like always, prefered the book more. Definitely, some improvements there and ones which I appreciated.

I got my computer back and almost fell asleep waiting for it. However, I was so happy to see that it worked quicker and more effectively than before. No long drawn out recovery period and minor surgery enhanced all functions. Lets see if the same happens here.

Back to black...

It had to happen at some point. The depression. So far, I had avoided it and stayed strong and positive. After the initial elation of Friday and being able to do a few things like walks and so on, here I was on Saturday feeling trapped in my useless body and not able to do the things I enjoy.

The worst thing was that I didn't want to tell anyone. Weekends are for fun, unfortuately most of my friends work and then drink. They are not for spending time with a newly deformed friend who can only talk about hysterectomies and vaginas as that's the only thing on her mind.

Don't get me wrong. I didn't hide under the duvet crying. I did things like go shopping for more drawstring trousers and pirate DVDs. I had a highly enjoyable Skype conversation with a really good friend who had also just had surgery. I wrote and I chilled. Zoe came to visit and we watched 'The King's Speech'. I couldn't shake my mood and my feeling off. I felt so empty.

There were many factors contributing to this black hole. The usual feeling of neediness and how I hated it. My own perception that I have asked far too much of others and am beginning to take the piss. Would people start forgetting about the operation? Can I ask for more support? When does it stop?

Other things were preying on my mind. Will I enjoy sex again? Have I denied that I never wanted kids? And lest we forget, the looming spectre of work was coming closer and closer and how frighteningly indifferent I was to it all.

I really tried to fight it. I cried a lot privately and downplayed it to others. I compiled yet another worry list, emailed it to Roberto (he asked) and then felt guilty that such things were trivial and surely he had better things to do. Besides, I'm uncomfortable with opening my heart to people. I wanted to be brave and strong. I wanted to be admired for my fortitude and not be the total crying mess I was. What I certainly didn't want was 'cheer up Liz'. I couldn't and more to the point, I didn't want to.

During that time, I had visitors but it was proving to be more of a strain with my mask. It was getting harder and harder. Also, the two nurses stopped coming. I loved my new idenpendence to cook and do more on my own. I also appreciated the time to cry too. The more upset I got, the greater the walls were and so the vicious circle began.

I reached a breaking point sometime on Tuesday. It was unbearable. I caught Roberto on Skype and by chance he was in my neighbourhood. He knew that all was not well and for once and perhaps for the first time in my life, I messaged and said 'I need a hug'.

He helped a lot and for that hour, I was calmer. Though, I did spend most of my time apologising profusely for crying and hating the way I was. Such things are temporary and it brought it home to me that friends are really important. My friends have been wonderful but within limits of not only time but their expertise. None of them are doctors so I can't expect them to help with the physical side so why I was expecting their support for the mental side.

I made a decision. I can't get through this and these rather dark feelings alone. I need to seek professional help.

One small step for humankind and one large step for....

Wow..today was an exciting day. Relatively speaking of course. Usually, my exciting days consist of far far more  but since the operation, I've learnt to lower my expectations a lot.

I've began to insist on making my own breakfast. You know, little by little and I'm way too untrusting of others with coffee. It just wouldn't taste right.

I was expecting a visit from Keri (the other Senior Teacher) who is on parental leave. Now, you may be wondering how I cope with women and kids. I just do. I've found that it doesn't bother me too much at all. Since then, I keep on discovering more and more people are pregnant and really I am happy for them.

Now the good thing about being visited by a parent, is that they can cook large quantities of food. I'm assuming that these things are second nature to them. And yes, she had well and truly excelled herself. There was enough to feed a small army, nevermind a small family and certainly more than enough to feed a small person with a small appetite. All was vegan too. Most seem to worry about preparing vegan food but really it's simple - just leave out the animal products.

More excitement followed..I went for a coffee to a little cafe 5 minutes away. Again, small small steps but for me it was an achievement. And stayed focussed on the conversation. I had another two visitors and managed to go to the cash machine. Wow..it was all a bit too much here and soon found myself dozing off for a while.

Now, this morning before my flurry of visitors, I knew that there was an event going on in the park with a straight edge musician known as xTrue Naturex. I have mixed feelings about the straight edge movement - being a politically minded vegan who smokes, drinks and has been known to take drugs. Though right now, I was living a straight edge lifestyle by default. I emailed Roberto in the morning stating that I think I could do it. Also, the organiser was a very good friend of his - a vegan, anarchist, straight edge feminist and someone who I had got to know and would very much like to see again.

Roberto saw my mail and turned up my flat while I was having my post exciting morning nap. He suggested that we could go as long as I was ready for it. I did wonder as I had problems following his first five minutes of conversation and actually said something was great when it was in reality some bad news. It was good to share food (well there is nothing worse than wasting it) and then off we went.

I felt weird being outside. Some cabin fever had definitely set in. Lots of people and noise and I was feeling really sensitive to it. But I carried on along with apologising for being slow. I decided that taking a taxi would be rather traumatic so we took the metrobus.

We arrived and walked around a bit searching for the concert. I would say it was really pleasant to be outside  and soon got over some slight agoraphobic feelings. We spied some alternative youth and Julieta. Yes, it was really nice to catch up and talk and almost feel like a normal person again.

My day had finished...some tiredness had kicked in. I'm not sure if I did the right thing or not but if it makes me feel good then so what?

Afterwards, I watched Black Swan on pirate DVD of course. I loved it. Deliciously dark, psychological, and no Hollywood ending. What a great way to end my relatively exciting and adventurous day.

A very 'meh' day

It really couldn't get much better or even worse. I woke up to my flat and yes, that did feel good. However one late nurse, no cooker and no hot water certainly didn't elevate my mood or energy levels. I called my support group and remarked that Maria Luisa was late just as she walked in the door with a huge bag of vegetables. Then Terre came along to tick her off and stay.

I really hope I don't sound ungrateful here but I felt pretty intruded and invaded. I just wanted to slob out in my pajamas and feel miserable and skanky. Standing up was a real issue and all I wanted to do was chat to friends online and feel sorry for myself.

With some intervention, Terre left and I was deciding how to manage the other nurse which took a great deal of mental energy. First things first, was that I needed to address grading language. Obviously, I needed to speak Spanish and I don't have a problem with that. What was frustrating is that they were speaking quickly and saying too much. I needed to emphasise slowness and simplicity.

I still was without a cooker so needed to sort that out quickly and food. I noted that Maria Luisa was attempting to boil up a plate of vegetables and again without sounding ungrateful, I doubted how much this would encourage my meager appetite and was it following the high protein regime to keep the stitches intact. The unshowering didn't bother me so much. In fact, it was pretty liberating to feel skanky and well..like a real ill person.

My landlady came to sort out the electricity. I got active about food. The nurse returned from a nearby restaurant with a plate of cold, boiled vegetables. The good news is that my landlady must have had magic fingers as somehow by magic, the flat came to life again...phew. And yes, I really tried but simply couldn't face or stomach the vegetables. More reason to intervene about the food situation and somehow I got the message across that I can attempt to explain in my basic Spanish what I want and certainly no boiled vegetables.

At around 4pm, all looked set in my flat. It seemed unnecessary to have another body in my flat. Maria Luisa sloped off, I prepared a tofu scramble, survived and then popped out to buy cigarettes in my pajamas. There is one lesson this operation has taught me. Dignity always comes second.

Oh yes..my manager wanted to visit me. Actually, it was quite pleasant and thankfully as I was wearing my bedclothes and looking disheveled and unshowered, it was quite a convincing act of a very ill person. Hopefully, there will be nothing like any work emails coming for the next week or so.

Homeward bound...or not

Tuesday morning and I was in good spirits. Really good spirits and better than usual. Yes, Fish was coming home. Back to my flat, my things and hopefully more of a sense of normality.

I had my appointment with Doctor Quiroz and the other doctor (the one who spoke English) and all seemed well. I apologised for being a terrible patient and promised to stick with the new protein enhanced diet or at least eat as I did before. Then Zoe came as promised to help me get out of the place. I was really happy that my manager gave her the morning off and I agree that for single people, then they do need someone to help with these things. Why don't companies and organisations provide 'Friend Leave'? What a great idea that would be!

Naturally, there was a catch. I couldn't leave until there was proof of payment. The BUPA folks in the UK were being slightly slack and not confirming something or another. Then, it had to go through Miami as that's the main contact for Spanish speaking America. Confusing, yes. But at least, no one had to come in with their visa card as an emergency payment.

We waited and waited and believe me, I really appreciated the company. I would've lost it again. We did manage to grab a coffee and of course persuade the nurses to let me go out for a cigarette. Well, I was discharged. And the freedom..sweet freedom.

As always, patients need to pay a pretty hefty deposit for the stay in hospital of 15,000 peso (750 pounds). We were all ready to get it but irritatingly so...no money on the premises. At least I'd spent very little so money wasn't an issue.

Zoe picked up my supply of protein shakes and got a taxi for us. Wham. I was hit by a wave of exhaustion. Really, this morning had been perhaps a bit too much for me. However, there was no way we could've avoided it.

The taxi pulled up outside my flat and then I spied the two nurses. Yes, it was really happening hut I was way too shattered to have any strong feelings for or against.

I made a beeline for my couch. Zoe began to speak to the nurses in Spanish. I got all enclosed and a bit spun out by the activity surrounding me. Sleep seemed a good solution. And there was yet another issue. No hot water and no electricity. Did I really want to be back home. Funnily enough I did.

I began to wonder how to assimilate the nurses - Tere and Maria Luisa into my life. I needed to unpack my things and have some food. Now, this may seem simple but bear in mind, I was feeling really fuggy and giving instructions in another language. It shattered me out. One of them prepared a salad and perhaps the worst thing I could eat but at least she tried.

It got late and really I felt that Terre had fulfilled her duties. She insisted on staying but with the help of Eduardo, we dissuaded her (or more I did). The point was that I wanted to be independent and also I was kind of looking forward to my first night alone in a long long while. 

Rebel, rebel...

The tubes were out of my arms and I was good to go..well not quite yet. The doctor needed to observe me for another 24 hours. I enjoyed a nice long shower, more strange food for breakfast but at least they cooked tofu. Every little bit counts, right?

Then I needed to be reunited with an old friend - my cigarettes. Of course, I was faced with opposition from the nurses but could they stop me? No. And boy it felt good. A slight headrush but that was quite pleasant too.

And the seal had broken..and my appetite for nicotine (although forced) was back! And then I discovered a lovely patio overlooking the whole of DF with large ashtrays. I even took my afternoon visitors there (Roberto and Alex) as I was getting stir crazy in my room.

I slept for my final night in a hospital for a long long time (I hope) and then the doctor from the night when I bled to death (part one) came in. She informed me that I had been seen smoking and that this would affect their observation of me. For fuck's sake..it was only a few minutes here and there and I think the worst of it had passed. Anyway, instead of having an argument, I smiled sweetly and she left.

Home tomorrow...can't wait.

Losing it...

I really wanted to go. There are too many meltdowns to mention here and tantrums and so on..but I was flying off the handle, getting irritable and generally being the patient from hell. I'm surprised I wasn't kicked out. 

During one of my major rages, another friend came to visit. She's a very chilled anyway and more to the point, I was ashamed of my behaviour. I didn't want to be seen like this at all.

I'd also just had a blood transfusion. I hope that they chose the right blood but I'm not dead yet. It was really unpleasant and took forever and forever. It was slow and cold. 

Kelly brought round goodies to boost my protein levels. Lots of quinoa which would really really help and my god I haven't eaten it in years and years. My god, it was great and I could feel my protein levels boosting as I ate. This was shortly followed by the support team with a suggestion which I was in two minds about. They have sourced daycare for me.

Arguments for

1. My own physical limitations - the latest incident has proved that I can't do a lot right now

2. My friends have work and lives

3. What happens if something happens again?

Arguments against

1. Do I really want someone there the whole day? I'm a very private person

2. Privacy, privacy, privacy

3. Language - can I make myself always understood in Spanish?

They agreed on 12 hours a day. Of course I had objections but they were adamant so I agreed too.

The food got better as Anna and Zoe cooked and gave it to the hospital. Now in a private hospital, should this be the case? I'll leave that for a another discussion but my god, it looked good. 

The day improved too...more friends came. This time, my three favourite Mexican sisters and my New Zealand Queen followed by two more friends and then more...that bleak room got a cheery party atmosphere and probably did me a whole lot more good than medication and blood transfusions.

One more day...but at least I can face it now.

A poor advertisment

All that fighting that I have as much protein as anyone else in my diet and then this happens. To be honest, I was ashamed of myself. But also, terrified on the idea of eating more..

Basically, what a shit advert for veganism was I.

Anyway, I woke up and felt the usual disorientation of an operation and then the support network came together. Eduardo and Debbie were in my room waiting for me to come back.

Now, while I was under anesthetic, there was a very funny incident at admissions. My friends were sorting out the paperwork and of course there was a few issues. The main one was other registering the birth. Now this flummoxed my friends. I'm not a Mexican national so don't have my birth certificate on my person. They were wondering what to do. The reality was that the admissions staff assumed it was an emergency Cesarean section and needed to register the birth of the child. There are physical impossibilities and then there are...well physical impossibilities.

More visitors...Kim came to see me and I wanted to know what was going on in the world. It seems in my absence that there's a revolution about to start in Egypt to follow the near one in Tunisia. People are fed up with the lack of democracy and the relationship with the USA. All I can say is 'Viva Revolucion'

More friends came along...it was the recovery crew. The whole incident really gave everyone a fright including me. I felt very guilty for this too. We reassessed my diet. I admitted that I don't like to eat much. One thought that perhaps a bit of meat would be a good idea (NO WAY!)

After everyone left, I decided to make a couple of phone calls. One to Julie because I wanted to see her before she left for The Netherlands and one to Roberto who despite being busy and not having any money, would appreciate being kept in the loop.

I hate doing this and feel like I was attention seeking but when one's nearly bled to death..I guess I've got the right.

Help! Bleeding alert!

And I was doing so well...minimal movement, resting, wearing ugly surgical stockings, sleeping loads and not getting stressed.

Simply, I overlooked a couple of points - the food and the protein factor.

It all went wrong on Saturday morning. I was having a lovely morning while Anna was teaching privately. I was contemplating getting up nice and slowly, write a bit and chill. And then I went to the toilet. Things felt a bit strange inside.

There was a lot of blood and by that I mean..a lot. All over the toilet and leaking around the bathroom. The weird thing was that there was no pain. Nothing at all.

So there I was...bleeding to death and not entirely sure what to do. More to the point, I was worried that I was destroying Anna's flat with blood stains. Now, a few things happened at the same time.

1. Colleague buzzed the intercom - he wanted to visit me. Now this teacher and I have a peculiar relationship with accusations of bullying and victimisation. To be honest, he's self centred and manipulative at times so was thinking how to handle the visit. Well, I didn't need to...spurting blood seemed a good enough reason to turn away a visit though how to make this friend not feel vicitimised was the real challenge.

2. Anna phoned..thank fuck. Her private student cancelled. She wanted to know if I needed anything from Soriana supermarket. I just asked her to come back as there was a lot of blood from nowhere.

3. Luis (the porter) came round though not entirely sure why. He saw the blood and immediately knew I needed help.

So, I waited for Anna. Sanitary towel after sanitary towel and still being soaked with blood. I googled 'heavy bleeding after hysterectomy' and had the same answer. 'Immediate Hospitalisation'. I was also concerned about Anna's flat so set on some damage limitations. Quite pathetic but at least it soaked something up. I continued to bleed and cried a but more out of frustration and confusion.

Anna came back and immediately phoned Dr. Quiroz and of course he said 'get straight to hospital'. She was soon followed by Vicky who wanted to help. We called a taxi. The whole process took forever (or so it seems) and I was getting weaker and weaker.

The taxi arrived and Anna with her practical head, got some binliners so I wouldn't bleed all over the taxi. Vicky got Luis to help me down the stairs which was an impossibility right now. I needed to be carried. Of course, I asked about my weight and was worried I'd be too heavy. But no..I weighed less than his children.

Maybe it was the lack of blood but it was all slow motion. I was kind of slipping away (to cite a cliche) and now I know what this means. All I do remember was telling Anna, 'but I was so good'.

Andrew was there waiting for us and then it was in the treatment room. Andrew joined me which was great and a surprise. More tests and more fingers and more questions. It looked like I was being admitted again.

The culprit was protein or lack of...so I rambled on about please don't let me eat meat. That was my main fear and really the world was getting more and more faded. Doctor Quiroz came in with a doctor with a good level of English and with the option of surgery. So it was not looking rosy at all and in fact pretty damn scary. I began to wonder what would knock me out first. Excessive blood loss or the anesthetic.

All the same crew were there. Some weird bandaging of my legs. I was out in a nanosecond.

The operation lasted marginally longer. In fact, I don't think they even bothered but they did. My first post op utterance was 'are you sure you've done it?'

Food glorious food..

There is no shortage of people wanting to feed me or shop for me. The missing part of this equation is that my appetite is dead.

It's a possible symptom of the operation. As far as I can gather, my insides are all turmoiled and don't know where to go. Nevermind have a meal and all food appears somewhat unappetizing and repulsive.

 Or could it be something else. Simply, I am scared shitless of gaining weight.

Hysterectomies can induce weight gain (around 10 pounds/4 kilos) and that's too much for me. Though most would say that I would have a healthy body weight but I'm not sure if that's what I want.

Also, the fact I'm doing nothing means that the pounds will pile on quickly.

Then, bloody hyster sisters website is full of women whinging about their weight.

One friend has been great at bringing round appetising food but due to her cultural background, it's important to finish the plate. So I do and not enjoy it towards the end

This was not part of any support group or forum..how to cope with eating after a hysterectomy when your relationship with food is not the best.

Bureaucracy and other inconveniences

Being long term sick is no easy business especially with papers to sort out to prove that I am indeed not fit to work and am entitled to a lengthy period of absence.

I am not going to rant about Mexico and it's system. Each country has it's own foibles and ways. I'm fine with it but it doesn't mean to say I like it. As always, with public spending, I guess they have to make sure the money is spent properly.

From an outside perspective and please forgive my misinterpretation here, the Mexican system is all about being guilty until being proved innocent. Or being well until being proved unhealthy. A doctor needs to see the patient first and then write a sick note for a while which needs to go to work and then the sick person gets paid. Muy facil, no?

Actually not. Like most bureaucracies, there are a few complications. Now, what most people do is queue in a skanky government office for ages and ages until a doctor can see them. This doesn't bother me. I am no stranger to musty government offices and waiting for a while with other cultural interpretations of what is a queue. The point is that I'm not well enough to really be outside in a non stressful situation. So a home visit is a must.

Now, Anna took on the IMSS responsibility. Brave girl. It seems to be a universal norm that dealing with government offices are exasperating and frustrating with no one answering the phone; rude and indifferent staff and a rather flexible view of what they can or can't do. Believe me, (although a private company) I had my fill of this dealing with British Airways over my suitcase.

Obviously, they behaved in this predictable way. Anna apparently got angry and eventually we got some clarity. Home visit after 8pm.

Zoe and I took a taxi to my flat which was in itself still difficult and exhausting. We picked up more of my things and then waited with an episode of Skins. My favourite series about British teens going wild. As Sod's law would have it, the doctor arrives.

Now this was a pleasant surprise...she was a woman! Since my diagnosis, I've had a series of men determining my reproductive future which irked my feminist principles. She really didn't examine me and just was there to answer questions about how I was feeling. She was lovely especially for one who spends the whole day writing sick notes and dealing with irate people.

But again, nothing is simple. The doctor knows that hysterectomies require at least 4 weeks off work and maybe even 6. However, she can't issue a sick note for that period of time. Very annoying but at least it will be all home visits.

I'm wondering does all this bureaucracy hinder a healing process by making things slower and more stressful.

Things to do when you're recovering from a hysterectomy

Now, I'm faced with a lot of time on my hands and the issue is how to manage it. Anna's place provided the thinking time for me and here's what I plan to do to fill the days.

Joining support groups
I've been doing some googling about hysterectomies. Sometimes, it's good to know more and found several sources. The main one is an online support group called Hyster Sisters with all that a women needs to know about a hysterectomy and was afraid to ask. It's quite comprehensive in terms of information but for me, it's well..pretty twee. We are called sisters and princesses. It's full of irritating acronyms like DH (dear husband) and BM (bowel movements). I have a real issue with acronyms and find them exclusive and with a fug like brain, it took some time to figure it out. And what's wrong with saying 'shit' and what about those who don't have a DH? I guess I write my DF/DGF/DFWB?

Oh yes...there is a lot of reference to god on there which is quite disturbing for a hardcore atheist. And a section called 'God Bless America' for the army wives and the boys fighting for the USA out in Afghanistan and Iraq. Though, I guess they are people too.

I'm not a huge support group person at the best of times. I joined anyhow and lets see what people make of my posts (if I can be bothered). I may be too sick to be belligerent.

Blogging
Another thing I did to avoid (pointless) hours on facebook stalking people and being all voyeuristic about my healthier friends was google blogs. Similar issue..all presented a rosy and happy view of what is a pretty dark operation. You know, a nice loving husband who has learnt how to clean because wifey is all laid up. I pay for someone to do all the cleaning.

There were no women like me. Nothing I could relate to or feel that I wasn't alone in this recovery period. My concerns are somewhat different like communicating with about a very new experience in another language, fashion, no booze and talking about the most amazing support group from friends who want to help. I spotted a niche and thought yes..there must be women like me out there. And so it all began -the blog. Usually, I'm not a fan of blogs. Most are self indulgent twaddle. But, it makes me feel better and maybe, it could support at least one woman and then I'm happy.

I publicised it on facebook but was far too shy to post the link publicly. Then on the couchsurfing 'Independent Women' group and already it seems that:

1. A Finnish friend told me her aunt also had a hysterectomy 10 years ago in Sweden. Like me, she was single and her GBFF was her main support. She faced opposition from the medical profession over the kids issue. No one would risk performing a hysterectomy on a woman without children even though she was childfree by choice. She got what she wanted at the end. Lots of parallels here but the sad thing is that my friend's aunt can't read English. I hope we can find a way to share.
2. Lots of comments about my bravery and strength. Not sure if I am particularly, but it's good to hear.
3. A 36 year old woman may need the same operation so I hope it helps her and also I've heard that another woman too had a hysterectomy also may find it of some support.
4. I am really quite addicted to googling so looked up feminist hysterectomy blogs. Needed a change from these all American housewives and was wondering if I could find something more fitting here. I found this link from a feminist all about her surgery blogging my hysterectomy. Now what was interesting was how much criticism this procedure receives from the feminist communities. It's all about removing the essence of womanhood. I actually don't support this view despite my strong feminist convictions. This woman agrees. If it's hurting and not working, get it out. However, that will the topic for another post.

Reading books
Got lots and lots of reading materials. Shame about the concentration span which puts a goldfish to shame right now

Social networking
Actually, I've got it under control. I really thought I'd be wasting hours and hours on facebook but no. Though I have time to answer emails and messages. People are obviously concerned about some vague status update and a profile picture of me in my hospital gown. A hysterectomy is not the sort of thing I really want to announce as a status update.

Sleeping
Am now a fan of a nap...this recovery period is pretty exhausting and more to the point..I can.

Visitors
I really like it when people come and visit and thankfully, it's a select few. No awkward conversations and no worries if I start to flake out during conversations. Not to mention the lovely food too. I never realised I had so many real friends.